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COLONEL CROCKETT MAKING A STUMP SPEECH. 















































DKATII OF COLONEL CROCKETT. 






























































































































































. 








* . 


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■ 





























































OF DAVID 


CROCKETT, 


THE ORIGINAL 

'i 

HUMORIST AND IRREPRESSIBLE BACKWOODSMAN 


COMPRISING 


ffl(6 EARLY HISTORY; HIS BEAR HUNTING AND OTHER ADVENTURES, HIS 
SERVICES IN THE CREEK WAR; HIS ELECTIONEERING SPEECH*# 

AND CAREER IN CONGRESS; WITH HIS TRIUMPHAL 
TOUR THROUGH THE NORTHERN STATES. 

AND SERVICES IN THE TEXAN WAR. 


TO WHICH 18 ADDED 


AX ACCOUNT OF HIS GLORIOUS DEATH AT THE ALAMO WHILE FIGHTING 
IN DEFENCE OF TEXAN INDEPENDENCE 


with illustrations. 


) > » 

* * 

y •> ■> 



PHILADELPHIA! 

JOHN E. POTTER AND COMPANY, 

017 Sansom Street. 






Pf36 

•(^3G 


Entered According to Act of Congress, in the year IMS, by 
JOHN E. POTTER AND COMPANY, 

In the Clerk’s Office of the District Court for the Eastern District of 
Pennsylvania. 








’REFACE BY THE EDITOR. 


Colonel David Crockett was one of the most remark¬ 
able men of the times in which he lived. Born in humble 
life, but gifted with a strong will, an indomitable courage, and 
unremitting perseverance, as well as au aptitude for accumu¬ 
lating information from his intercourse with men of superior 
education, he rose to posts of high honor and distinction. 
His talent for original humor caused his sayings to be admired 
and quoted, reported in newspapers, and received with ap¬ 
plause throughout America and Europe. 

In his military career, which was confined to the Creek 
war of 1813-1814, he served in the ranks as a private sol¬ 
dier; and although in these circumstances, he never had an 
extensive separate command, he was frequently sent upon 
seo'iting and hunting expeditions in which he acquitted him¬ 
self with credit. His entrance into public life was unsought 
or his own part, and was entirely the result of that ascendency 
which an able and independent mind asserts over the masses 
in the troubles and turmoils of politics. The stand which he 
took in Congress against those measures, which he disapproved, 

(3) 



4 


PREFACE BY THE EDITOR. 


of his old Commander, General Jackson, when President of the 
United States, was recognized throughout the country as the 
evidence of a high degree of political integrity, and rendered 
him extremely popular with the party at that time opposed 
to the administration of the General Government. When 
this popularity was at its height, Colonel Crockett made the 
tour of the Middle and Northern States; and was everywhere 
received with the greatest enthusiasm. 

His odd maxims and original remarks had for a long time 
been circulating in the newspapers, and the greatest curiosity 
prevailed to hear him speak on political affairs. Under these 
circumstances, although it was not an easy matter to satisfy the 
public, his speeches gave general satisfaction, and he returned 
to his constituents crowned with fresh honors. 

But the fiat of power had gone forth against him; and every 
nerve was strained by the administration to defeat his re- 
election. As usual with General Jackson, he succeeded in 
preventing the return of his adversary to Congress; and Col¬ 
onel Crockett was constrained to return to private life. 

But private life had lost its charms for the Colonel; and as 
the struggle for the independence of Texas was then going 
forward; although the cause was apparently in a hopeless 
state, and the whole band of patriots but a handful of men, 
Colonel Crockett with his usual ardor and determination 
♦lirew himself into the contest, and perished gloriously at the 
siege of the Alamo. Had he survived that siege, and par¬ 
ticipated in the subsequent glories of San Jacinto, it is not 
easy to imagine to what honors he might not have been advanced 


PREFACE BY THE EDITOR. 


5 


by his compatriots after the independence of Texas was se¬ 
cured, and her admission as one of the states of the Union 
bad been accomplished. 

The life of Colonel Crockett was written by himself, is en¬ 
tirely without literary pretensions; but it is full cf interest as 
well as instruction. It shows how much may be accomplished 
by a right aim, a strong will, and an indomitable spirit of 
perseverance. 





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/ igH P * 














. •• 

























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1 


















V 
























. 













































AUTHOR’S PREFACE 


Fasiiion is a thing I care mighty little about, except when 
it happens to run just exactly according to my own notion; 
and I was mighty nigh sending out my book without any pre¬ 
face at all, until a notion struck me, that perhaps it was ne¬ 
cessary to explain a little the reason why and wherefore I had 
written it. 

Most of authors seek fame, but I seek for justice,—a holier 
impulse than ever entered into the ambitious struggles of the 
votaries of that fickle,flirting goddess. 

A publication has been made to the world, which has done 
me much injustice; and the catchpenny errors which it con¬ 
tains, have been already too long sanctioned by my silence. I 
don’t know the author of the book—and indeed I don’t want 
to know him : for after he has taken such a liberty with my 
name, and made such an effort to hold me up to public ridi¬ 
cule, he cannot calculate on anything but my displeasure. If 
he had been content to have written his opinions about me, 
however contemptuous they might have been, I should have 
less reason to complain. But when he professes to give my 
narrative (as he often doesj in my own language, and then 
puts into my mouth such language as would disgrace even an 
outlandish African, he must himself be sensible of the injus¬ 
tice he has done me, and the trick he has played off on the 
public. I have met with hundreds, if not with thousands of 

(7) 



8 


author’s preface. 


people, who have formed their opinions of ray appearance, haD 
its, language, and everything else from that deceptive work*, 

They have almost in every instance expressed the most 
profound astonishment at finding me in human shape, and with 
the countenance, appearance, and common feelings of a human 
Deing. It is to correct all these false notions, and to do jus¬ 
tice to myself, that I have written. 

It is certain that the writer of the book alluded to has gath¬ 
ered up many imperfect scraps of information concerning me, 
ss in parts of his work there is some little semblance of truth. 
But I ask him, if this notice should ever reach his eye, how 
would he have liked it, if I had treated him so ?—if I had 
put together such a bundle of ridiculous stuff, and headed it 
with his name, and sent it out upon the world without ever 
even condescending to ask his permission ? To these ques¬ 
tions, all upright men must give tho same answer. It was 
wrong; and the desire to make money by it, is no apology for 
such injustice to a fellow man. 

But I let him pass; as my wish is greatly more to vindicate 
myself, than to condemn him. 

In the following pages I have endeavored to give the reader 
a plain, honest, homespun account of my state in life, and some 
few of the difficulties which have attended me along its journey, 
down to this time. I am perfectly aware, that I have related 
many small and, as I fear, uninteresting circumstances ; but 
if so, my apology is, that it was rendered necessary by a desire 
to link the different periods of my life together, as they have 
passed, from my childhood onward, and thereby to enable the 
reader to select such parts of it as he may relish most, if, in 
deed, there is anything in it which may suit his palate. 

I have also been operated on by another consideration. It 
It* this:—I know, that obscure as I am, my name is making a 
considerable deal of fuss in the world. I can’t tell why it is, 


AUTHOR’S PREFACE. 


9 


n<iw' In what it is to end. Go where I will, everybody secni9 
anurous to get a peep at me; and it would be hard to tell 
whoch would have the advantage, if I, and the “ Government,” 
and “ Black Hawk,” and a great eternal big caravan of wild 
varmints were all to be showed at the same time in four dif- 
feient parts of any of the big cities in the nation. I am not 
so sure that I shouldn’t get the most custom of any of the 
cknw. There must therefore be something in me, or about 
me, that attracts attention, which is even mysterious to my- 
kcjtf. I can’t understand it, and I therefore put all the facts 
sown, leaving the reader free to take his choice of them. 

On the subject of my style, it is bad enough, in all con¬ 
science, to please critics, if that is what they are after. They 
are a sort of vermin, though, that I sha’n’t even so much as 
stop to brush off. If they want to work on my book, just let 
them go ahead ; and after they are done, they had better blot 
out all their criticisms, than to know what opinion I would 
express of them , and by what sort of a curious name I would 
call them , if I was standing near them, and looking over their 
shoulders. They will, at most, have only their trouble for 
their pay. But I rather expect I shall have them on my side. 

But I don’t know of anything in my book to be criticised 
on by honorable men. Is it on my spelling?—that’s not my 
trade. Is it on my grammar?—I hadn’t time to learn it, and 
matte no pretensions to it. Is it on the order and arrange¬ 
ment of my book ?—I never wrote one before, and never read 
very many; and, of course, know mighty little about that. 
Will it be on the authorship of the book?—this I claim, and 
I’ll hang on to it like a wax plaster. The whole book is my 
own, and every sentiment and sentence in it. I would not 
be such a fool, or knave either, as to deny that I have had 
it run hastily over by a friend or so, and that some little al¬ 
terations have been made in the spelling and grammar; and I 


10 


author’s preface. 


am not so sure that it is not the worse of even that, for I de¬ 
spise this way of spelling contrary to nature. And as for 
grammar, it’s pretty much a thing of nothing at last, after all 
the fuss that’s made about it. In some places, I wouldn’t 
suffer either the spelling, or grammar, or anything else to be 
touched; and therefore it will be found in my own way. 

But if anybody complains that I have had it looked over, I 
can only say to him, her, or them—as the case may be—that 
while critics were learning grammar, and learning to spell, 1 
and u Doctor Jackson, LL.D.” were fighting in the wars; 
and if our books, and messages, and proclamations, and cabi¬ 
net writings, and so forth, and so on, should need a little 
looking over, and a little correcting of the spelling and the 
grammar to make them fit for use, its just nobody’s business. 
Big men have more important matters to attend to than cross¬ 
ing their t’s —, and dotting their t’s—, and such like small 
things. But the “ Government’s” name is to the proclama¬ 
tion, and my name’s to the book; and if I didn’t write the 
book, the “ Government” didn’t write the proclamation, which 
no man dares to deny ! 

But just read for yourself, and my ears for a heel tap, if 
oefore you get through you don’t say, with many a good-na¬ 
tured smile and hearty laugh, “ Th** truly the very thing 
itself—the exact image of its Author, 

DAVID CKOCKE1X\ M 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER I. 

r 

Crockett's descent—His father a soldier in the Revolutionary Wai — 
Fought at the battle of King’s Mountain—Settles in Tennessee— 
Crockett's grandparents murdered by the Indians — One uncle 
wounded and another captured by the Indians—Birth of David 
Crockett—Early recollections—Narrow escape of his brothers from 
drowning—Shooting a man instead of a deer—His father’s lemovals 
—Keeps a tavern—Davy hired to a Dutchman—Escapes fiorn him 
in a snow storm—Mr. Dunn’s kindness—David returns home. 

CHAPTER II. 

David goes to school—Flogs a schoolmate and plays truant—Gets found 
out—Runs away—Hires himself to Jesse Cheek—Leaves him—Goes 
with Myers—Afraid to go home—Works for John Gray—Goes to 
Baltimore—Agrees to go to sea—Made prisoner—Escapes—Be¬ 
friended by a wagoner—His kindness—David “ hires out” to Caldwell 
—Works for Griffith, the hatter—His master breaks—He starts for 
home—Perilous adventure in a canoe—Meets his brother—Reaches 
home—His reception.. 

CHAPTER III. 

David at home—Works out a debt for his father—Hires out with an old 
Quaker—Gets paid in a note of his father’s—David falls in love with 
a Quakeress—Disappointed—Goes to school—Falls in love again— 
So es to a shooting match—Gets jilted—Sick at heart.. 


(ID 






12 


CONTENTS, 


CHAPTER IV. 


MSI 


Crockett goes a hunting—The Dutch widow—Ugly daughter—Crockett 
goes to a reaping—The old Irish woman—Crockett dances with her 
daughter—Makes love to her—A rival—Crockett lost in the woods— 
Meets his lady love—Opposition of her mother to the marriage— 
Crockett married—Mother-in-law reconciled—Two sons born—Re¬ 
moval to Lincoln county—Removal to Franklin county. 61 


CHAPTER V. 

Ihe Creek war—Massacre at Fort Mimms—Crockett volunteers—Joins 
Captain Jones' company of mounted volunteers—Beaty’s Spring— 
Major Gibson—Crockett goes out as a scout with George Russell— 
Scouting adventures—Crockett returns, and reports to General Cof¬ 
fee—Express sent to General Jackson—His arrival in camp... 61 

CHAPTER VI. 

Crockett sent off with a detachment—Burning of Black Warrior's town 
—Crockett goes a hunting to supply provision for the detachment— 

His success—Rejoins the main army—Battle with the Indians—Re¬ 
turn to Fort Strother—Famine in the camp—Expedition to Fort Ta- 
ladega—Battle of Taladega—Famine—Mutiny—Crockett goes home 
with the other volunteers—F„ejoins the army—Skirmish near Horse 
Shoe Bend—Another Battle—Courage and skill of General Carroll... 71 

CHAPTER VII. 

Lockett joins the army for the Florida campaign—Passes nenr Fort 
Mimins—Arrival at Pensacola—General Jackson leaves for New Or¬ 
leans—Crockett returns with his regiment to Fort Mimms—De- 
icription of the fort and the massacre—March towards Pensacola 
—Preparations for a battle—Creeks killed—Expedition of Major 
Russell—Return to Pensacola. gg 

CHAPTER VIII. 

Start for Chatahachy—Famine in the camp—Burning of town on the 
Chatahachy—Famine again—Crockett goes a hunting—His success 
—Arrival at Fort Decatur—Crockett buys corn with bullets—March 
to Fort Williams—Pass the battle-ground of Taladega—Pass the 
Coosa river—Crockett starts for home—Returns home—Joy of his 
family—Crockett’s sentiments on the warrior career—Close of the 








CONTENTS. 


13 


CHAPTER IX. 

MSI 

Death of Mrs. Crockett—His family—Crockett courts a soldier’s widow 
—Marries again—New family—Emigrates—Perilous journey—Sick¬ 
ness—Returns home—Second sickness—Crockett settles on Shoal 
Creek—Regulators—Crockett a magistrate—Amusing account of his 
proceedings—Learning how to make out written warrants, and keep 
a docket — His success as a magistrate.... 102 

CHAPTER X. 

Captain Matthew’s intrigue—Crockett a candidate for military office— 
Matthew’s artful dodge—Detected by Crockett, who defeats him, and 
is elected colonel—Crockett a candidate for the Legislature—On the 
stump—Electioneering—Hunting party—Speech-making tough work 
—Tells anecdotes—Gains his election—Colonel Polk—The judiciary 
-Loss of property—Failure—Gives up all *q his creditors. 112 

CHAPTER XI. 

Colonel Crockett emigrates again—Difficult journey—Visit to Mr. 
Owens—Boating—Hunting—Planting—The Fall’s hunt—Perilous 
winter journey to get a cask of powder—Success. 119 

CHAPTER XII. 

All hands turn out for a hunt—Colonel Crockett goes after bear—Kills 
two wild turkeys—Encounters a very big bear—Three shots fired— 
Benr killed—Weighs 600 pounds—Difficulty in getting him home— 
Colonel Crockett supplies his family with provisions by hunting.. 131 

CHAPTER XIII. 

Colonel Crockett sells his peltry—Meets influential politicians at Jack- 
son—Is invited to become a candidate for the Legislature—Declines 
—Is advertised for the office without his consent—Determines to run 
—Meets his opponent—His amusing and characteristic description of 
his manner of electioneering—Two other candidates proposed—Col¬ 
onel Crockett is elected—Votes against General Jackson for Senator 
—Colonel Crockett proposed as a candidate for Congress—He is de¬ 
feated — Proposed again for the next Congress • • ttlMMMMIMMM ••••• \u 







V 


14 CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER XIV. M 

Colonel Crockett engages in a lumber speculation—Boat building— 

Bear hunting—The grubber—More bear hunting—Bear attacked in 
a cane brake—Bear attacked in a hollow tree—Three bears killed— 
Cutting up the bears and salting them.- ^1 

CHAPTER XV. 

More bear hunting—Shooting a bear—Crockett benighted in the wood* 

—Night encounter with a bear—Crockett nearly frozen to death— 
Dreadful earthquake—Ten bears killed during this hunt.- 1M 


CHAPTER XVI. 

Colonel Crockett attends to his lumber speculations—Goes down the 
Mississippi with his lumber—Difficult navigation—Boats swamped— 
Narrow escape of the Colonel from drowning—Result of the specu- 
lation a total loss.- 15S 


CHAPTER XVII. 

Colonel Crockett enters on a new canvass for Congress—A friend sup¬ 
plies M the sinews of war”—Electioneering—A stump speech—Inci¬ 
dent of the guinea-fowls turned to a good account—Crockett elected 
—Serves in Congress during Adams’ administration—Re-elected to 
Congress—Votes against the Indian bill—Political persecution— 
Crockett proposed for Congress again—Defeated—Crockett’s district 
Gerrymandered to keep him out of Congress—He is elected. 163 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

Colonel Crockett commences his tour to the Northern States—Enter¬ 
tained at Barnum’s Hotel in Baltimore—Passage to Philadelphia— 
Crockett’s toast—Grand reception at Philadelphia—Arrival at United 
States Hotel—Crockett’s speech—Walk round the Quaker City at 
night—Visited by distinguished citizens—Visit to the Water Works, 
the Mint, and the Asylum for the Insane—Crockett’s speech at the 
Exchange—Great applause—Goes to the Walnut Street Theatre— 
Crockett presented with a wateh-seal and rifle—Visits the Navy 
Yard—Takes a ride with Colonel Reeside—Takes a supper with Mr. 
Dorrance, and makes a call on Colonel Saint. .. ..... 171 


* 







CONTENTS, 


16 


CHAPTER XIX. 

FAU 

Colonel Crockett starts for New York—The passage—Grand Reception 
—Committee of young whigs invite him to go to the American Hotel 
—Goes to the Park Theatre—Sees Fanny Kemble—His opinion of 
that actress—The Colonel goes to a fire—Makes a Speech at the Ex¬ 
change—Goes to Peale’s Museum and the City Hall—Dines with Col. 
Draper—Invited to a supper by the young whigs—Has a ride with 
Col. Jackson—Visits the Five Points—* His opinion of the strange 
sights there—Introduced to Albert Gallatin—Preparations for build¬ 
ing the Astor House—Celebration at the Battery—General Morton— 
Gideon Lee—Castle Garden—Goes to the Bowery Theatre—Colonel 
Mapes—Grant Thorburn—Rifle shooting—The Colonel gives a spe¬ 
cimen. 133 


CHAPTER XX. 

The Colonel starts for Boston—Passes Hell Gate and Point Juda—First 
impressions of New England scenery—Captain Silsbee—Arrives at 
Tremont House—Mr. Boyden—Visit to the gallery of the artist, 
Chester Harding—Sits for his portrait—Faneuil Hall—Gen. Davis—. 
Quincy Market—India-rubber factory—Colonel Perkins—Carpet 
factory—Sups with the young whigs—Bunker HiU—Whig dinner— 
Chan trey's statue of Washington—Asylum for the Mind. . 195 

CHAPTER XXI. 

Colonel Crockett is invited to visit Harvard University—Is afraid tney 
will make him a Doctor of Laws, and declines going there—Visits 
the Tremont Theatre—Visit to Lowell—The Colonel is delighted with 
the factories and the factory girls—His remarks on free labor—The 
sea-serpent—The tariff—The South—Mr. Lawrence presents the Colo¬ 
nel with a suit of broadcloth of Lowell manufacture, from Mississippi 
wool—The Colonel dines with the young gentlemen of Lowell—New 
England hospitality—The Colonel returns to Boston—Spends an eve¬ 
ning with Lieutenant-Governor Armstrong—Returns to Prcvidenco, 

New York, and Philadelphia—Visit to Camden, New Jersey—Loses 
his pocket-book and money—Returns to Baltimore and Washington.. 209 

CHAPTER XXII. 

Breaking sp of Congress—Crockett at Philadelphia—Presentation of 
the rifle—The Colonel's speech—Visit to the Fish House—Celebration 
of the Fourth of July—The Colonel's speech at Chesnut Street Tho- 




16 


CONTENTS. 


litre—Present of gunpowder from Mr. Dupont—Crockett at Pittsburg 
—His advice to Tennessee—Conversation with Captain Stone—Pas¬ 
sage to Cincinnati and Louisville—Speech at Louisville—Roturn 
home—Shooting for beef... 222 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

Electioneering—Stump speech—Price of popularity—Treating—The 
coon-skin trick—The Yankee merchant outwitted—Offer of compen¬ 
sation on the part of the Colonel refused—Adam Huntsman, the 
Colonel’s opponent. 239 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

The Coionel loses his election—How it happened—Political persecution 
and corruption—The Colonel’s opinions and sentiments on political 
affairs—Where the public money goes—Anecdote—The Colonel’s 
parting blessing to his constituents—He resolves to go to Texas, and 
engage in the war for its independence—Specimen of the Colonel’s 
poetry....... 246 


CHAPTER XXV. 

The Colonel starts for Texas—Amusing incident of the man fighting 
with his own shadow—Crockett arrives at Little Rock—The puppet 
showman—Disappointment—Threats of lynch law—The bookseller 
who becomes fiddler to the puppet show—Moral of a puppet show.... 256 

CHAPTER XXVI. 

Crockett offered a public dinner by the citizens of Little Rock—Thinks 
he will decline—The landlord shows him his larder—The Colonel ac¬ 
cepts—Rifle shooting—Cute trick—The dinner—The Colonel’s speech 
—He tells the Little Rock politicians how to get office—A jolly 
•voning.... 261 


CHAPTER XXVII. 

Western hospitality—The Colonel takos leave of his Little Rock friends 
—Escorted on his way towards Texas—Tries for recruits for the 
Texan war, without success—Whimsical adventure of the fiddling 
bookseller—Great utility of fiddling—Account of Arkansas—Elo¬ 
quence of the parson—The parting—Specimen of impertinent curi¬ 
osity baffled —Job Snelling—Arrival at Fulton.... 279 







CONTENTS, 


17 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 

?A(U 

Departure from Fulton—Game of thimblerig on the steamboat—Sleight 
of hand—The Colonel makes Thimblerig treat the company—The 
Colonel’s toast—His speech—His opinion of Van Buren—Great 
applause. 282 


CHAPTER XXIX. 

Vhim«j/erig relates the events of his life to the Colonel—Thimblerig 
courts a planter’s daughter—Gets a very broad hint to leave—Becomes 
a play-actor—Refuses to perform the hind legs of the elephant, be¬ 
cause it is not a speaking part—Gets discharged—Becomes marker 
in a gambling house at New Orleans—Quits—Becomes a professional 
blackleg—Goes to Natchez under the hill—His description of that 
place—A murder—Punishment of the murderer—Punishment of a 
gambler for cheating—Arrival of the Colonel at Natchitoches.. 301 

CHAPTER XXX. 

Account of Natchitoches—The Colonel advises Thimblerig to reform 
and join the Texan patriots—Thimblerig decides to do so—Curious 
incident of the yellow boy—The singer and the politician—A brisk 
conversation—The singer thrashes the politician—The Bee Hunter— 

He joins the patriots—The Colonel, Thimblerig, and the Bee Hunter 
set out for Nacogdoches on their way to Texas.-. 114 

CHAPTER XXXI. 

Route to Nacogdoches—Accomplishments of the Bee Hunter—Story 
of Andrew Tumlinson—His death—Society in Texas—Arrival at 
Nacogdoches—Account of that place—Scene between the Bee Hunter 
and his lady-love—Departure from Nacogdoches.. 827 

CHAPTER XXXII. 

iDcidents on the road—Tricks upon travelers—The mad dog hoa* - 
Another curious trick—Cane brake—Wolves and game—The party 
joined by one of Lafitte’s pirates and an Indian hunter—Scene at the 
dinner table—Sudden disappearance of the Bee Hunter—The party- 
encounter an immense herd of buffaloes—The Colonel gives chase— 

Gets lost—Falls in with a herd of mustangs—A race with the mus¬ 
tangs—Reaches the Navasola river, where the mustangs leave hluu. S3* 
°2 






18 


CONTENTS, 


CHAPTER XXXIII. 

rui 

The Colonel’s mustang apparently very ill—The C jlonel has a hard 
fight with a cougar, and kills him—Passes the night in a tree—Loses 
his mustang—Breakfasts on roast goose—Falls in with a party of 
Cumanches—Ride with them—Singular recovery of his mustang—A 
prairie on fire—Politeness of the Cumanches—Meeting with Thim¬ 
blerig—Re-union of the whole party—Meeting with a band of Mexi¬ 
cans—A fight—The Mexicans beaten and put to flight—Arrival at 
the Alamo...... 354 


CHAPTER XXXIV. 

Description of the Alamo fortress and Bexar—Capture of the Alamo by 
the Texan army—Account of Colonel Bowie—His stratagem for de¬ 
ceiving the Cumanches—News of the approach of Santa Anna— 
History of Texas—Account of Santa Anna—His ambition—Anec¬ 
dote—Siege of a convent. 363 

CHAPTER XXXV. 

Thimblerig on a spree—The mule train—News of Santa Anna—The 
ragged hunter—Unsuccessful attack on Tampico—Fate of the assail¬ 
ants—Approach of the Mexicans under Santa Anna—Siege of the 
Alamo commenced—Raising the Texan flag—Colonel Travis sends 
to Colonel Fanning for reinforcements—Reinforcements arrive— 
Thimblerig wounded—His revenge on the Mexicans—Colonel Bowio 
—The Bee Hunter cannonading—Provisions brought in—General 
Bosnia's movements—Sharpshooting—Declaration of Independence 
—A sortie from the Alamo—End of Colonel Crockett’s MS. 378 

CHAPTER XXXVI. 

Assault on the Alamo directed by Santa Anna—Desperate fighting— 

Six Americans survive—Crockett one of the number—Death of Thim¬ 
blerig—Castrillon takes the prisoners to Santa Anna, who directs the 
massacre of the whole—Death of Col. Crockett—Of Col. Bowie—Of 
Col. Travis—Loss of the Mexicans at the Alamo—Battle of Goliad— 
Surrender of Col. Fanning—Massacre of the American prisoners— 
Ravages of the Mexicans on their march to San Jacinto—General 
Houston—Battle of San Jacinto—Total defeat of the Mexicans and 
capture of Santa Anna—Death ■»£ Col. Fanning.. .. 395 








LIFE OF 

COLONEL DAVID CROCKETT. 


CHAPTER I. 

Crockett’s descent—His father a soldier in the Revolutionary Wav— 
Fought at the battle of King’s Mountain—Settles in Tennessee— 
Crockett’s grandparents murdered by the Indians—One uncle 
wounded and another captured by the Indians—Birth of David 
Crockett—Early recollections—Narrow escape of his brothers from 
drowning—Shooting a man instead of a deer—His father’s remo¬ 
vals—Keeps a tavern—David hired to a Dutchman—Escapes from 
him in a snow storm—Mr. Dunn’s kindness—David returns home. 

As the public seem to feel some interest in the his¬ 
tory of an individual so humble as I am, and as that 
history can be so well known to no person living as to 
myself, I have, after so long a time, and under many 
pressing solicitations from my friends and acquaintances, 
at last determined to put my own hand to it, and lay 
before the world a narrative on which they may at least 
rely as being true. And seeking no ornament or color¬ 
ing for a plain, simple tale of truth, 1 uix iw aside all 

(191 



20 


CROCKETT’S FAMILY. 


hypocritical and fawning apologies, a:id according to 
my own maxim, just “ go ahead .” Where I am not 
known, I might, perhaps, gain some little credit by 
having thrown around this volume some of the flowers 
of learning; but where I am known, the vile cheatcry 
would soon be detected, and like the foolish jackdaw, 
that "with borrowed tail attempted to play the peacock, 
I should be justly robbed of my pilfered ornaments, and 
sent forth to strut without a tail for the balance of my 
time. I shall commence my book with what little I 
have learned of the history of my father, as all great 
men rest many, if not most, of their hopes on their 
noble ancestry. Mine was poor, but I hope honest, and 
even that is as much as many a man can say. But to 
my subject. 

My father’s name was John Crockett, and he was of 
Irish descent. He was either born in Ireland or on a 
passage from that country to America across the At¬ 
lantic. He was by profession a farmer, and spent the 
early part of his life in the State of Pennsylvania. The 
name of my mother was Rebecca Hawkins. She was 
an American woman, born in the State of Maryland, 
between York and Baltimore. It is likely I may have 
heard where they were married, but if so, I have for¬ 
gotten. It is, however, certain that they were, or else 
the public would never have been troubled with the his¬ 
tory of David Crockett, their son. 

I have an imperfect recollection of the part which 1 
have understood my father took in the revolutionary 
war. I personally know nothing about it, for it hap¬ 
pened to be a little before my day; but from himself 


ckockett’s family. 


21 


and mary others who were well acquainted with ita 
troubles and afflictions, I have learned that he was a 
soldier in the revolutionary war, and took part in that 
bloody struggle. He fought, according to my informa¬ 
tion, in the battle of King’s Mountain, against the 
British and tories, and in some other engagements, of 
which my remembrance is too imperfect to enable me to 
speak with any certainty. At some time, though I 
cannot say certainly when, my father, as I have under¬ 
stood, lived in Lincoln county, in the State of North 
Carolina. How long I don’t know. But when he re¬ 
moved from there, he settled in that district of country 
which is now embraced in the east division of Tennessee, 
though it was not then erected into a State. 

He settled there under dangerous circumstances, both 
to himself and his family, as the country was full of 
Indians, who were at that time very troublesome. By 
the Creeks, my grandfather and grandmother Crockett 
were both murdered in their own house, and on the very 
spot of ground where Bogersville, in Hawkins county, 
now stands. At the same time, the Indians wounded 
Joseph Crockett, a brother to my father, by a ball, 
which broke his arm; and took James a prisoner, who 
was still a younger brother than Joseph, and who, from 
natural defects, was less able to make his escape, as he 
was both deaf and dumb. He remained with them for 
seventeen years and nine months, when he was disco¬ 
vered and recollected by my father and his eldest 
brother, William Crockett; and was purchased by them 
from an Indian trader, at a price which I do not now 
remember; but so it was, that he was delivered up to 


22 


crockett’s family. 


them, and they returned him to his relatives. He now 
lives in Cumberland county, in the State of Kentucky, 
though I have not seen him for many years. 

My father and mother had six sons and three daugh 
tors. I was the fifth son. What a pity I hadn’t been 
the seventh ! For then I might have been, by common 
consent, called doctor , as a heap of people get to be 
great men. But, like many of them, I stood no chance 
to become great in any other way than by accident. 
As my father was very poor, and living as he did, far 
back in the back woods , he had neither the means nor 
the opportunity to give me, or any of the rest of his 
children, any learning. 

But before I get on the subject of my own troubles, 
and a great many very funny things that have happened 
to me, like all other historians and biographers, I 
should inform the public that I was born, myself, as 
well as other folks, and that this important event took 
place, according to the best information I have received 
on the subject, on the 17th of August, in the year 1786’; 
whether by day or night, I believe I never heard, but 
if I did, I have forgotten. I suppose, however, it is not 
very material to my present purpose, nor to the world, 
as the more important fact is well attested, that I was 
born; and, indeed, it might be inferred, from my pre¬ 
sent size and appearance, that I was pretty well born , 
though I have never yet attached myself to that nu¬ 
merous and worthy society. 

At the time my father lived at the mouth of Lime 
Stone, on the Nolachuckv river; and for the purpose 
not only of showing what sort of a man I now am, but 


EARLY RECOLLECTIONS. 


also to show how soon I began to be a sort of a littU 
man , I have endeavored to take the bach track of life, 
in order to fix on the first thing that I can remember. 
But even then, as now, so many things were happening, 
that, as Major Jack Downing would say, they are all in 
“ a pretty considerable of a snarl,” and I find it “ kinder 
bard” to fix on that thing, among them all, which really 
happened first. But I think it likely I have hit on the 
outside line of my recollection; as one thing happened 
at which I was so badly scared, that it seems to me I 
could not have forgotten it, if it had happened a little 
time only after I was born. Therefore it furnishes me 
with no certain evidence of my age at the time; but I 
know one thing very well, and that is, that when it hap¬ 
pened I had no knowledge of the use of breeches, for I 
had never had any nor worn any. 

But the circumstance was this : My four elder bro¬ 
thers, and a well-grown boy of about fifteen years old, 
by the name of Campbell, and myself, were all playing 
on the river’s side, when all the rest of them got into my 
father’s canoe, and put out to amuse themselves on the 
water, leaving me on the shore alone. 

Just a little distance below them, there was a fall in the 
river, which went slap-right straight down. My brothers, 
though they were little fellows, had been used to paddling 
the canoe, and could have carried it safely anywhere 
about there; but this fellow Campbell wouldn’t let them 
have the paddle, but, fool like, undertook to manage it 
himself. I reckon he had never seen a water craft be¬ 
fore ; and it went just any way but the way he wanted 
it. There he paddled, and paddled, and paddled—all 


24 


ESCAPE FROM DROWNING, 


the while going wrong, until, in a short time, here they 
were all going, straight forward, stern foremost, right 
plump to the falls; and if they had only a fair shake, 
they would have gone over as slick as - a whistle. It 
wasn’t this, though, that scared me, for I was so infer¬ 
nal mad that they had left me on the shore, that I had 
as soon have seen them all go over the falls a bit, as any 
other way. But their danger was seen by a man by the 
name of Kendall, but I’ll be shot if it was Amos, for I 
believe I would know him yet if I was to see him. This 
man Kendall was working in a field on the bank, and 
knowing there was no time to lose, he started full tilt, 
and here he come like a cane brake afire; and as he ran 
he threw off his coat, and then his jacket, and then his shirt, 
for I know when he got to the water he had nothing on but 
hi.s breeches. But seeing him in such a hurry, and tearing 
off his clothes as he went, I had no doubt but that the 
devil, or something else was after him—and close on him, 
too—as he was running within an inch of his life. This 
alarmed me, and I screamed out like a young painter. 
But Kendall didn’t stop for this. He went ahead with 
all might, and as full bent on saving the boys, as Amos 
was on moving the deposites. When he came to the wa¬ 
ter, he plunged in, and where it was too deep to wade, 
he would swim, and where it was shallow enough he went 
bolting on; and by such exertion as I never saw at any other 
time in my life, he reached the canoe, when it was within 
twenty or thirty feet of the falls ; and so great was the suci 
and so swift the current, that poor Kendall had a hard tim<r 
of it to stop them at last, as Amos will to stop th* 
mouths of the people about his stockjobbing. But he 


A MAN SHOT INSTEAD OF A DEEK. 


25 


hung on to the canoe, till he got it stopp’d, and then 
draw’d it out of danger. When they got out, I found 
the boys were more scared than I had been, and the only 
thing that comforted me was the belief that it was a pun¬ 
ishment on them for leaving me on shore. 

Shortly after this, my father removed and settled in 
the same county, about ten miles above Greenville. 

There, another circumstance happened, "which made a 
lasting impression on my memory, though I was but a 
small child. Joseph Hawkins, who was a brother to my 
mother, was in the woods hunting for deer. He was 
passing near a thicket of brush, in which one of our 
neighbors was gathering some grapes, as it was in the 
fall of the year, and the grape season. The body of the 
man was hid by the brush, and it was only as he would 
raise his hand to pull the bunches, that any part of him 
could be seen. It was a likely place for deer, and my 
uncle, having no suspicion that it was any human being, 
but supposing the raising of the hand to be an occasional 
twitch of a deer’s ear, fired at the lump, and as the devil 
would have it, unfortunately shot the man through the 
body. I saw my father draw a silk handkerchief 
through the bullet hole, and entirely through his body; 
yet after a while he got well, as little as any one would 
have thought it. What become of him, or whether he is 
dead or alive, I don’t know; but I reckon he didn’t 
fancy the business of gathering grapes in an out-of-the- 
way thicket soon again. 

The next move my father made was to the mouth of 
Cove creek, where he and a man by the name of Thomas 
llalbreath undertook to build a mill in partnership 


26 CROCKETT HIRED TO A DUTCHMAN”. 

They went oil very well with their work until it was nigh 
done,, when there came a second epistle to Noah’s 
freshet, and away went their mill, shot, lock, and barrel. 
I remember the water rose so high, that it got up into 
the house we lived in, and my father moved us out of it 
to keep us from being drowned. I was now about seven 
or eight years old, and have a pretty distinct recollection 
of everything that was going on. From his bad luck in 
that business, and being ready to wash out from mill 
building, my father again removed, and this time, settled 
in Jefferson county, now in the State of Tennessee, where 
he opened a tavern on the road from Abbingdon to 
Knoxville. 

Ilis tavern was on a small scale, as he was poor; and 
the principal accommodations which he kept were for the 
wagoners who traveled the road. Here I remained with 
him until I was twelve years old ; and about that time, 
you may guess, if you belong to Yankee land, or reckon, 
if like me you belong to the back-woods, that I began to 
make up my acquaintance with hard times, and a plenty 
of them. 

An old Dutchman, by the name of Jacob Siler, who 
was moving from Knox county to Rockbridge, in the 
State of Virginia, in passing, made a stop at my father’s 
b use. He had a large stock of cattle, that he was car¬ 
rying on with him, and I suppose, made some proposi¬ 
tion to my father to hire some one to assist him. 

Being hard run every way, and having no thought, as 
[ believe, that I was cut out for a Congressman, or the 
like, young as I was, and as little as I knew about tra¬ 
veling or being from home, he hired me to the old 


ANXIOUS TO RETURN HOME. 2T 

Dutchman to go four hundred miles on foot, with a per¬ 
fect stranger that I had never seen until the evening be¬ 
fore. I set out with a heavy heart, it is true, but I went 
ahead until we arrived at the place, which was three miles 
from what is called the Natural Bridge, and made a stop 
at the house of a Mr. Hartley, who was father-in-law to 
Mr. Siler, who had hired me. My Dutch master was 
very kind to me, and gave me five or six dollars, being 
pleased, as he said, with my services. 

This, however, I think was a bait for me, as he per¬ 
suaded me to stay with him, and not return any more to 
my father. I had been taught so many lessons of obe¬ 
dience by my father, that I at first supposed I was bound 
to obey this man, or at least I was afraid openly to dis¬ 
obey him ; and I therefore staid with him, and tried to 
put on a look of perfect contentment until I got the fam¬ 
ily all to believe I was fully satisfied. I had been there 
about four or five weeks, when one day myself and two 
other boys were playing on the roadside, some distance 
from the horse. There came along three wagons. One 
belonged to an old man by the name of Dunn, and the 
others to two of his sons. They had each of them a good 
team, and were all bound for Knoxville. They had been 
in the habit of stopping at my father’s as they passed 
the road, and I knew them. I made myself known to 
the old gentleman, and informed him of my situation; I 
expressed a wish to get back to my father and mother, 
i f they could fix any plan for me to do so. They told me that 
they would stay that night at a tavern seven miles from 
there, and that if I could get to them before day the 
next morning, they would take me home; and if I waa 


ESCAPE. 


pursued, they would protect me. This was a Sunday 
evening \ I went back to the good old Dutchman s house, 
and as good fortune would have it, he and the family 
were out on a visit. I gathered my clothes and what 
little money I had, and put them all together under the 
head of my bed. I went to bed early that night, but 
sleep seemed to be a stranger to me. For though I was 
a wild boy, yet I dearly loved my father and mother, 
and their images appeared to be so deeply fixed in my 
mind, that I could not sleep for thinking of them. And 
then the fear that when I should attempt to go out, I 
should be discovered and called to a halt, filled me with 
anxiety; and between my childish love of home, on the 
one hand, and the fears of which I have spoken, on the 
other, I felt mighty queer. 

But so it was, about three hours before day in tha 
morning, I got up to make my start. When I got out, 
I found it was snowing fast, and that the snow was then 
on the ground about eight inches deep. I had not even 
the advantage of moonlight, and the whole sky was hid 
by the falling snow, so that I had to guess at my way to 
the big road, which was about a half mile from the house. 
I, however, pushed ahead, and soon got to it, and theu 
pursued it in the direction to the wagons. 

I could not have pursued the road if I had not guided 
myscdf by the opening it made between the timber, as 
the snow was too deep to leave any part of it to be known 
by cither seeing or feeling. 

Before I overtook the wagons, the earth was covered 
about as deep as my knees; and my tracks filled sc 


MR. DUNN. 


29 


briskly after me, that by daylight my Dutch master 
would have seen no trace which I left. 

I got to the place about an hour before day. I found 
the wagoners already stirring, and engaged in feeding 
and preparing their horses for a start. Mr. Dunn took 
mo in and treated me with great kindness. My heart 
was more deeply impressed by meeting with such a friend 
and “at such a time,” than by wading the snow-storm by 
night, or all the other sufferings which my mind had en¬ 
dured. I warmed myself by the fire, for I was very 
cold, and after an early breakfast, we set out on our 
journey. The thoughts of home now began to take the 
entire possession of my mind, and I almost numbered the 
sluggish turns of the wheels, and much more certainly 
the miles of our travel, which appeared to me to count 
mighty slow. I continued with my kind protectors until 
we got to the house of a Mr. John Cole, on Roanoke, 
when my impatience became so great, that I determined 
to set out on foot and go ahead by myself, as I could tra 
vel twice as fast in that way as the wagons could. 

Mr. Dunn seemed very sorry to part with me, and 
used many arguments to prevent me from leaving him. 
But home, poor as it w T as, again rushed on my memory, 
and it seemed ten times as dear to me as it ever had 
before. The reason was, that my parents were there, 
and ali that I had been accustomed to in the hours of 
childhood and infancy was there ; and there ray anxious 
little heart panted also to be. Wo remained at Mr. 
Cole’s that night, and early in the morning I felt that 1 
could not stay; so, taking leave of my friends, the 
wagoners, I went forward on foot, until I was fortu- 


80 


DAVID RETURNS HOME. 


nately overtaken by a gentleman, who was returning 
from market, to which he had been with a drove of 
horses. He had a led horse, with a bridle and saddle 
on him, and he kindly offered to let me get on his horse 
and ride him. I did so, and was glad of the chance, 
for I was tired, and was, moreover, near the first cross¬ 
ing of Roanoke, which I would have been compelled to 
wade, cold as the water was, if I had not fortunately 
met this good man. I travelled with him in this way, 
without anything turning up worth recording until we 
got within fifteen miles of my father’s house. There 
we parted, and he went on to Kentucky, and I trudged 
on homeward, which place I reached that evening. The 
name of this kind gentleman I have entirely forgotten, 
and I am sorry for it; for it deserves a high place in 
my little book. A remembrance of his kindness to a 
little straggling boy, and a stranger to him, has, how¬ 
ever, a resting place in my heart, and there it will re 
main as long as I live. - 


CHAPTER II. 


Dnvid goes to school—Flogs a schoolmate and plays trnaut- Gets 
founa out—Runs away—Hires himself to Jesse Cheek—I>avea 
him—Goes with Myers—Afraid to go home—Works for John 
Gray—Goes to Baltimore—Agrees to go to sea—Made prisoner— 
Escapes—Befriended by a wagoner—His kindness—David “ hires 
out” to Caldwell—Works for Griffith, the hatter—His master 
breaks — He starts for home — Perilous adventure in a canoe— 
Meets his brother—Reaches home—His reception. 

Having gotten home, as I have just related, I re¬ 
mained with my father until the next fall, at which time 
he took it into his head to send me to a little country 
school, which was kept in the neighborhood by a man 
whose name was Benjamin Kitchen; though I believe 
he was no way connected with the cabinet. I went four 
days, and had just began to learn my letters a little, 
when I had an unfortunate falling out with one of the 
scholars,—a boy much larger and older than myself. I 
knew well enough that though the school-house might do 
for a still hunt, it wouldn’t do for a drive , and so 1 con¬ 
cluded to wait until I could get him out, and then I was 
determined to give him salt and vinegar. I waited till 
in the evening, and when the larger scholars were spell¬ 
ing I slipp’d out, and going some distance along his road, 
I lay by the way-side in the bushes, waiting for him tc 
come along. After awhile, he and his company cam a 

(31) 


82 


DAVID PLAYS TRUANT. 


on sure enough, and I pitched out from the bushes and 
set on him like a wild cat. I scratched his face all to a 
flitter jig, and soon made him cry out for quarters in 
good earnest. The fight being over, I went on home, 
and the next morning was started again to school; but 
i. you think I went? No, indeed. I was very clear 
of it; for I expected the master would lick me up a? 
bad as I had the boy. So, instead of going to the 
school-house, I laid out in the woods all day until in the 
evening the scholars were dismissed, and my brothers, 
who were also going to school, came along, t returning 
home. I w r anted to conceal this wdiole business from my 
father, and I persuaded them not to tell on me, which 
they agreed to. 

Things w T ent on in this way for several days; I start¬ 
ing with them to school in the morning, and returning 
wdth them in the evening, but lying out in the woods all 
day. At last, however, the master wrote a note to my 
father, inquiring wdiy I was not sent to school. When 
he read this note he called me up, and I knew very well 
that I w T as in a devil of a hobble, for my father had been 
taking a few horns , and was in a good condition to make 
the fur fly. He called on me to know wdiy I had not 
been at school. I told him I was afraid to go, and that 
the master would whip me, for I knew quite well if I 
was turned over to this old Kitchen, I should be cooked 
up to a cracklin’ in little or no time. But I soon found 
that I was not to expect a much better fate at home ; for 
my father told me, in a very angry manner, that he 
» r ould whip me an eternal sight worse than the master 
if I didn’t start immediately to the school. I tried 


HIKES HIMoELF TO JESSE CHEEK. 


33 


x^ beg off, but nothing would do but to go to the 
school. Finding me rather too slow about, starting, he 
gathered about a two year old hickory, and broke after 
me. I put out with ail my might, and soon we were 
both up to the top of our speed. We had a tolerable 
rough race for about a mile; but mind me, not on the 
school-house road, for I was trying to get as far the 
t’other way as possible. And I yet believe, if my father 
and the schoolmaster could both have levied on me about 
that time, I should never have been called on to sit m 
the councils of the nation, for I think they would have 
used me up. But fortunately for me, about this time I 
saw just before me a hill, over which I made headway, 
like a young steamboat. As soon as I had passed over 
i* I turned to one side, and hid myself in the bushes. 
Here I waited until the old gentleman passed by, puffing 
and blowing, as though his steam was high enough to 
burst his boilers. I waited until he gave up the hunt, 
And passed back again: I then cut out, and went to the 
house of an acquaintance a few miles off, who was just 
about to start with a drove. His name was Jesse Cheek, 
and I hired myself to go with him, determining not to 
return home, as home and the school-house had both 
become too hot for me. I had an elder brother, who 
also hired to go with the same drove. We set out and 
went on through Abbingdon, and the county seat of 
Withe county, in the State of Virginia; and then through 
Lynchburgh, by Orange court-house, and Charlottesville, 
passing through what was called Chester Gap, on to a 
town called Front Royal, where my employer sold ouv 
his drove to a man by the name of Vanmetre * and X 
3 


AFRAID TO GO HOME. 


84 

waa started homeward again, in company with a brother 
of the first owner of the drove, with one horse between 
. us ; having left my brother to come on with the balance 
of the company. 

I traveled on with my new comrade about three days’ 
journey; but much to his discredit, as I then thought, 
and still think, he took care all the time to ride, but 
never to tie; at last I told him to go ahead, and I 
would come when I got ready. He gave me four dollars 
to bear my expenses upwards of four hundred miles, and 
then cut out and left me. 

I purchased some provisions, and went on slowly, 
until at length I fell in with a wagoner, with whom I 
was disposed to scrape up a hasty acquaintance. I in* 
quired where he lived, and where he was going, and all 
about his affairs. He informed me that he lived in 
Greenville, Tennessee, and was on his way to a place 
called Gerardstown, fifteen miles below Winchester. 
He also said, that after he should make his journey to 
that place, he would immediately return to Tennessee. 
His name was Adam Myers, and a jolly good fellow he 
seemed to be. On a little reflection, I determined to 
turn back and go with him, which I did; and we jour¬ 
neyed on slowly, as wagons commonly do, but merrily 
enough. I often thought of home, and, indeed, wished 
bad enough to be there; but, when I thought of tho 
school-house, and Kitchen, my master, and the race 
with my father, and the big hickory he carried, and of 
the fierceness of the storm of wrath that I had left him 
in, I was afraid to venture back ; for I knew my father’s 
nature so well, that I was certain his anger would h^ng 


WORKS FOR JOHN GRAY. 


35 


on to bin, like a turkle does to a fisherman’s toe, and 
that, if I went back in a hurry, he would give me th*» 
devil in three or four ways. But I and the wagoner had 
traveled two days when we met my brother, who, I be¬ 
fore stated, I had left behind when the drove was sold 
out. He persuaded me to go home, but I refused. IIo 
pressed me hard, and brought up a great many mighty 
strong arguments to induce me to turn back again. He 
pictured the pleasure of meeting my mother, and my 
sisters, who ail loved me dearly, and told me what unea¬ 
siness they had already suffered about me. I could not 
help shedding tears, which I did not often do, and my 
affections all pointed back to those dearest friends, and 
as I thought, nearly the only ones I had in the world ; 
but then the promised whipping—that was the thing. 
It came right slap down on every thought of home; and 
I finally determined that make or break, hit or miss, I 
would just hang on to my journey, and go ahead with 
the wagoner. My brother was much grieved at our 
parting, but he went his way, and so did I. We went 
on until at last we got to Gerardstown, where the 
wagoner tried to get a back load, but he could not 
without going to Alexandria. He engaged to go there, 
and I concluded that I would wait until he returned. I 
set in to work for a man by the name of John Gray, at 
twenty-five cents per day. My labor, however, was 
light, such as ploughing in some small grain, in which I 
succeeded in pleasing the old man very well. I con¬ 
tinued working for him until the wagoner got back, and 
for a good long time afterwards, as he continued to run 
his team back and forward, hauling to and from Balti 


86 


GOES TO BALTIMORE. 


more. In the next spring, from the proceeds of my 
daily labor, small as it was, I was able to get me some 
decent clothes, and concluded I would make a trip with 
)he wagoner to Baltimore, and see what sort of a place 
that was, and what sort of folks lived there. I gave 
him the balance of what money I had for safe keeping, 
which, as well as I recollect, was about seven dollars. 
We got on well enough until we came near Ellicott’s 
Mills. Our load consisted of flour in barrels. Here I 
got into the wagon for the purpose of changing my 
clothing, not thinking that I was in any danger; but, 
while I was in there, we were met by some wheelbarrow 
men, who were working on the road, and the horses took 
a scare and away they went, like they had seen a ghost. 
They made a sudden wheel around, and broke the wagon 
tongue slap, short off, as a pipe-stem; and snap went 
both of the axletrees at the same time, and of all devil¬ 
ish flouncing about of flour barrels that ever was seen, 
I reckon this took the beat. Even a rat would have 
stood a bad chance in a straight race among them, and 
not much better in a crooked one; for he would have 
been in a good way to be ground up as fine as ginger 
by their rolling over him. But this proved to me, that 
if a fellow is born to be hung, he will never be drowned ; 
and, further, that if he is born for a seat in Congress, 
even flour barrels can’t make a mash of him. All these 
dangers I escaped unhurt, though, like most of the 
office-holders of these times, for a while I was afraid to 
say my soul was my own; for I didn’t know how soon 
I should be knocked into a cocked hat, and get my 
walking papers for another country. 


AGREES TO GO TO SEA. 


ST 


We put our load into another wagon, and hauled ours 
to a workman’s shop in Baltimore, having delivered the 
flour, and there we intended to remain two or three days, 
which time was necessary to repair the runaway wagon. 
While I was there, I went one day, down to the wharf, 
and was much delighted to see the big ships, and their 
sails all flying, for I had never seen such things before, 
and, indeed, I didn’t believe there were any such things 
in all nature. After a short time, my curiosity induced 
me to step aboard of one, where I was met by the cap¬ 
tain, who asked me if I didn’t wish to take a voyage to 
London ? I told him I did, for by this time I had be¬ 
come pretty well weaned from home, and I cared but lit 
tie where I was, or where I went, or what became of me. 
He said he wanted just such a boy as I was, which I was 
glad to hear. I told him I would go and get my clothes 
and go with him. He enquired about my parents, where 
they lived, and all about them. I let him know that 
they lived in Tennessee, many hundred miles off. We 
soon agreed about my intended voyage, and I went back 
to my friend, the wagoner, and informed him that I was 
going to London, and wanted my money and my clothes. 
He refused to let me have either, and swore that he 
would confine me, and take me back to Tennessee. I 
took it to heart very much, but he kept so close and con¬ 
stant watch over me, that I found it impossible 10 escape 
from him, until he had started homeward, and made sev¬ 
eral days journey on the road. He was, during this 
time, very ill to me, and threatened me with his wagon- 
whip on several occasions. At length I resolved to leave 
lam at all hazards; and so, before day, one morning, I 


88 


PROTECTED BY A WAGONER. 


got my clothes out of his wagon, and cut out, on foot, 
"without a farthing of money to bear my expenses. For, 
all other friends having failed, I determined then to 
throw myself on Providence, and see how that would use 
me. I had gone, however, only a few miles, when I 
came up with another wagoner, and such was my situa¬ 
tion, that I felt more than ever' the necessity of endea¬ 
voring to find a friend. I therefore concluded I would 
seek for one in him. He was going westwardly, and 
very kindly enquired of me where I was traveling ? My 
youthful resolution, which had brooked almost everything 
else, rather gave way at this inquiry; for it brought the 
loneliness of my situation, and everything else that wa3 
calculated to oppress me, directly to view. My first an 
swer to his questions was in a sprinkle of tears, for if 
the world had been given to me, I could not, at that mo¬ 
ment have helped crying. As soon as the storm of feel¬ 
ing was over, I told him how I had been treated by the 
wagoner but a little before, who kept what little money 
1 had, and left me without a copper to buy even a mor¬ 
sel of food. 

He became exceedingly angry, and swore that he 
would make the other wagoner give up my money, pro¬ 
nouncing him a scoundrel, and many other hard names. 

I told him I was afraid to see him, for he had threat¬ 
ened me with his wagon-whip, and I believed he would 
injure me. But my new friend was a very large, stout¬ 
looking man, and as resolute as a tiger. He bid me not 
to be afraid, still swearing he would have my money, or 
whip it out of the wretch who had it. 

We turned, and went back about two miles, when we 


KINDNESS OF MR. MYERS. 


99 


reached the place where he was. I went reluctantly; 
but I depended on my friend for protection. When we 
got there, I had but little to say; but, approaching the 
wagoner, my friend said to him, “ You damn’d rascal, 
you have treated this boy badly.” To which he replie l 
it was my fault. He was then asked if he did not get 
seven dollars of my money, which he confessed. It was 
then demanded of him ; but he declared most solemnly 
that he had not that amount in the world; that he had 
spent my money, and intended paying it back to me 
when we got to Tennessee. I then felt reconciled, and 
persuaded my friend to let him alone, and we returned 
to his wagon, geared up, and started. His name I shall 
never forget while my memory lasts; it was Henry 
Myers. He lived in Pennsylvania, and I found him 
what he professed to be, a faithful friend, and a clever 
fellow. 

We traveled together for several days, but at length 
I concluded to endeavor to make my way homeward; 
and for that purpose, set out again on foot, and alone. 
But one thing I must not omit. The last night I staid 
with Mr. Myers was at a place where several wagoners 
also staid. He told them before we parted, that I was 
a poor little straggling boy, and how I had been treated, 
and tnat I was without money, though I had a long jour¬ 
ney before me, through a land of strangers, where it wai 
not even a wilderness. 

They were good enough to contribute a sort of money- 
purse, and presented me with three dollars. On this 
amount I traveled as far as Montgomery court-house, in 
the Stato of Virginia, where it gave out. T act in to 


40 


PERILOUS ADVENTURE. 


work for a man by the name of James Caldwell, a 
month, for five dollars, which was about a shilling a day. 
When this time was out, I bound myself to a man by the 
name of Elijah Griffith, by trade a hatter, agreeing to 
work for him for four years. I remained with him about 
eighteen months, when he found himself so involved in 
debt, that he broke up and left the country. For this 
time, I had received nothing, and was, of course, left 
without money, and with but very few clothes, and them 
very indifferent ones. I, however, set in again, and 
worked about as I could catch employment, until I got 
a little money and some clothing, and once more cut out 
for home. When I reached New River, at the mouth of 
a small stream called Little River, the white caps were 
flying, so that I couldn’t get anybody to attempt to put 
me across. I argued the case as well as I could, but 
they told me there was great danger of being capsized 
and drowned, if I attempted to cross. I told them if I 
could get a canoe I would venture, caps or no caps. 
They tried to persuade me out of it; but finding they 
could not, they agreed I might take a canoe, and so I 
did, and put off. I tied my clothes to the rope of the 
canoe to have them safe, whatever might happen. But 
1 found it a mighty ticklish business, I tell you. When 
I got out fairly on the river, I would have given the 
world, if it had belonged to me, to have been back on 
shore. But there was no time to lose now, so I just de¬ 
termined to do the best I could, and the devil take the 
hindmost. I turned the canoe across the waves, to da 
which, I had to turn it nearly up the river, as the wind 
came from that way; and I went about two miles before 


DAVID KEACnES HOME. 


41 


I could land. When I struck land, my canoe was about 
half full of water, and I was as wet as a drowned rat. 
But I was so much rejoiced that I scarcely felt the cold, 
though my clothes were frozen on me; and, in this situ¬ 
ation, I had to go above three miles before I could find 
any house or fire to warm at. I, however, made out to 
get to one at last, and then I thought I would warm the 
inside a little, as well as the outside, that there might be 
no grumbling. 

So I took “a leetle of the creater,”—that warmer of 
♦he cold, and cooler of the hot—and it made me feel so 
good, that I concluded it was like the negro’s rabbit, 
“ good any way.” I passed on until I arrived in Sulli¬ 
van county, in the State of Tennessee, and there I met 
with my brother, who had gone with me when I started 
from home with the cattle drove. 

I staid with him a few weeks, and then went on to my 
father’s, which place I reached late in the evening. 
Several "wagons were there for the night, and considera¬ 
ble company about the house. I enquired if I could 
stay all night, for I did not intend to make myself known 
until I saw whether any of the family would find me out. 
I was told that I could stay, and went in, but had mighty 
little to say to anybody. I had been gone so long, and 
had grown so much, that the family did not at first know 
me. And another, and perhaps a stronger reason wa3, 
they had no thought or expectation of me, for they all 
bad long given me up for finally lost. 

After a while, we were all called to supper. I went 
with the rest. We had sat down to the table and begun 
to eat, when my eldest sister recollected me; she sprung 


42 


DAVID AT HOME. 


up, ran and seized me around the neck, and exclaimed, 
“ Here is my lost brother.” 

My feelings at this time it would be vain and foolioh 
for me to attempt to describe. I had often thought I 
felt before, and I suppose I had, but sure I am, I ne\cr 
had felt as I then did. The joy of my sisters and my 
mother, and, indeed, of all the family, was such, that it 
humbled me, and made me sorry that I hadn’t submitted 
to a hundred whippings, sooner than cause so much afflic¬ 
tion as they had suffered on my account. I found the 
family had never heard a word of me from the time my 
brother left me. I was now almost fifteen years old; 
and my increased age and size, together with the joy of 
my father occasioned by my unexpected return, I was 
sure would secure me against my long dreaded whipping; 
and so they did. But it will be a source of astonishment, 
to many, who reflect that I am now a member of the 
American Congress—the most enlightened body of men 
in the world—that at so advanced an age, the age of fif¬ 
teen, I did not know the first letter in the book. 


CHAPTER III. 


David at Homo—Works out a Debt for Ms Father—Hires out with 
an old Quaker—Gets paid in a Note of his Father’s—David falh 
in love with a Quakeress—Disappointed—Goes to School—Falls 
in love again—Goes to a Shooting Match—Gets jilted—Sick at 
Heart. 

I HAD remained for some short time at home with my 
father, when he informed me that he owed a man, whose 
name was Abraham Wilson, the sum of thirty-six dollars, 
and that if I would set in and work out the note, so as 
to lift it for him, he would discharge me from his service, 
and I might go free. I agreed to do this, and went imme¬ 
diately to the man who held my father’s note, and con¬ 
tracted with him to work six months for it. I set in, 
and worked with all my might, not losing a single day 
in the six months. When my time was out, I got my 
father’s note, and then declined working with the man 
any longer, though he wanted to hire me mighty bad. 
The reason was, it was a place where a heap of bad com¬ 
pany met to drink and gamble, and I wanted to get away 
from them, for I know’d very w'ell if I staid there, I 
should get a bad name, as nobody could be respectable 
that would live there. I therefore returned to my father 
and gave him up his paper, which seemed to please him 
mightily, for though he was poor, he was an honest man, 

and always tried mighty hard to pay off his debts. 

( 43 ) 


44 WORKS OUT HIS FATHER’S NOTE. 

I next went to the house of an honest old Quake/, by 
the name of John Kennedy, who had removed from 
North Carolina, and proposed to hire myself to him, at 
two shillings a day. He agreed to take me a week on 
trial; at the end of which he appeared pleased with my 
work, and informed me that he held a note on my father 
for forty dollars, and that he would give me that note 
if I would work for him six months. I was certain 
enough that I should never get any part of the note; 
but then I remembered it was my father that owed it, 
and I concluded it was my duty as a child to help him 
along, and ease his lot as much as I could. I told the 
Quaker I would take him up at his offer, and immedi¬ 
ately went to work. I never visited my father’s house 
during the whole time of this engagement, though he 
lived only fifteen miles off. But when it was finished, 
and I had got the note, I borrowed one of my employer’s 
horses, and, on a Sunday evening, went to pay my 
parents a visit. Some time after I got there, I pulled 
out the note and handed it to my father, who supposed 
Mr. Kennedy had sent it for collection. The old man 
looked mighty sorry, and said to me he had not the 
money to pay it, and didn’t know what he should do. I 
then told him I had paid it for him, and it was then his 
own; that it was not presented for collection, but as a 
present from me. At this he shed a heap of tears; and 
as soon as he got a little over it, he said he was sorry 
he could not give me anything, but he was not able, be 
was too poor. 

The next day I went back to my old friend, the Qua- 
ker, and set in to work for him for some clothes; for I 


DAVID IN LOVE. 


45 


had now worked a year without getting any money at 
all, and my clothes were nearly all worn out, and what 
few I had left were mighty indifferent. I worked in 
this way for about two months ; and in that time a young 
woman from North Carolina, who was the Quaker’s 
niece, came on a visit to his house. And now I am just 
getting on a part of my history that I know I never can 
forget. For though I have heard people talk about 
hard loving, yet I reckon no poor devil in this world 
was ever cursed with such hard love as mine has always 
been, when it came on me. I soon found myself head 
over heels in love with this girl, whose name the public 
could make no use of; and I thought that if all the hills 
about there were pure chink, and all belonged to me, I 
would give them if I could just talk to her as I wanted 
to : but I was afraid to begin, for when I would think 
of saying anything to her, my heart would begin to 
flutter like a duck in a puddle; and if I tried to outdo 
it and speak, it would get right smack up in my throat, 
and choke me like a cold potato. It bore on my mind 
in this way, till at last I concluded I must die if I didn’t 
broach the subject; and so I determined to begin and 
hang on a trying to speak, till my heart would get out 
of my throat one way or t’other. And so one day at 
it I went, and after several trials I could say a little. 
I told her how well I loved her; that she was the dar¬ 
ling object of my soul and body; and I must have her, 
or else I should pine down to nothing, and just die away 
with the consumption. 

1 found my talk was not disagreeable to her; but sha 
was an honest girl, and didn’t want to deceive nebody. 


46 


DAVID GOES TO SCHOOL. 


She told me she was engaged to her cousin, a son of 
the old Quaker. This news was worse to me than war, 
pestilence, or famine; but still I knowed I could nol 
help myself. I saw quick enough my cake was dough, 
and I tried to cool off as fast as possible; but I had 
hardly safety pipes enough, as my love was so hot as 
mighty nigh to burst my boilers. But I didn’t press 
my claims any more, seeing there was no chance to do 
anything. 

I began now to think that all my misfortunes growed 
out of my want of learning. I had never been to school 
but four days, as the reader has already seen, and did 
not yet know a letter. 

I thought I would try to go to school some, and as the 
Quaker had a married son who was living about a mile 
and a half from him, and keeping a school, I proposed 
to him that I would go to school four days in the week, 
and work for him the other two, to pay my board and 
schooling. He agreed I might come on these terms; 
and so at it I went, learning and working, backwards 
and forwards, until I had been with him nigh on to six 
months. In this time, I learned to read a little in my 
primer, to write my own name, and to cypher some in 
the first three rules in figures. And this was all the 
schooling I ever had in my life, up to this day. I 
should have continued longer, if it hadn’t been that I 
concluded I couldn’t do any longer without a wife ; and 
so I cut out to hunt me one. 

I found a family of very pretty little girls that I had 
known when very young. They had lived in the same neigh¬ 
borhood with me, and I had thought very well of them. 


IN LOVE AGAIN. 


47 


I made an offer to one of them, whose name is nobody’s 
business, no more than the Quaker girl’s was, and I 
found she took it very well. I still continued paying my 
respects to her, until I got to love her as bad as 1 had 
the Quaker’s niece; and I would ha\ s agreed to fight a 
whole regiment of wild cats if she would only have said 
she would have me. Several months passed in this way, 
during all of which time she continued very kind and 
friendly. At last, the son of the old Quaker and my 
first girl had concluded to bring their matter to a close, 
and my little queen and myself were called on to wait 
on them. "VVe went on the day, and performed our duty 
as attendants. This made me worse than ever; and af • 
ter it was over, I pressed my claim very hard on her, but 
she would still give me a sort of evasive answer. How¬ 
ever, I gave her mighty little peace, till she told me at 
last she would have me. I thought this was glorification 
enough, even without spectacles. I was then about 
eighteen years old. We fixed the time to be married; 
and I thought if that day come, I should be the happiest 
man in the created world, or in the moon, or anywhere 
else. 

I had by this time got to be mighty fond of the rifle, 
and had bought a capital one. I most generally carried 
her with me wherever I went, and though I had got back 
tc the old Quaker’s to live, who was a very particular 
man, I would sometimes slip out and attend the shooting 
matches, where they shot for beef; I always tried, 
though, to keep it a secret from him. He had, at tho 
game time, a bound boy living with him, who I had got¬ 
ten into almost as great a notion of the girls as myself. 


43 DAVID GOES TO A SHOOTING MATCH. 

Flo was about my own age, and was deeply smitten with 
the sister to my intended wife. I know’d it was in vain 
to try to get the leave of the old man for my young as¬ 
sociate to go with me on any of my courting frolics ; but 
I thought I could fix a plan to have him along, which 
would not injure the Quaker, as we had no notion that 
he should ever know it. We commonly slepv up stairs, 
and at the gable end of the house there was a window. 
So, one Sunday, when the old man and his family were 
all gone to meeting, we went out and cut r, long pole, 
and taking it to the house, we set it up or end in the 
corner, reaching up the chimney as high as the window. 
After this we would go up stairs to bed, and then putting 
on our Sunday clothes, would go out at the window, and 
climb down the pole, take a horse a-piece, and ride about 
ten miles to where his sweetheart lived, and the girl I 
claimed as my wife. I was always mighty careful to be 
back before day, so as to escape being found out; and in 
this way I continued my attentions very closely, until a 
few days before I was to be married, or at least thought 
I was, for I had no fear that anything was about to go 
wrong. 

Just now I heard of a shooting-match in the neighbor¬ 
hood, right between where I lived and my girl’s house; 
and I determined to kill two birds with one stone—to go 
to the shooting-match first, and then to see her. I there¬ 
fore made the Quaker believe I was going to hunt for 
deer, as they were pretty plenty about in those parts; 
but, instead of hunting them, I went straight on to the 
Bhooting-match, where I joined in with a partner, and we 
put in several shots for the beef. I was mighty lucky. 


DAVID GETS JILTED. 


49 


and wlun the match was over, I had won the whole beef. 
This was on a Saturday, and my success had put me in 
the finest humor in the world. So I sold my part of the 
beef for five dollars in the real grit, for I believe that 
was before bank-notes was invented ; at least, I had 
never heard of any. I now started on to ask for my 
wife ; for, though the next Thursday was our wedding- 
day, I had never said a word to her parents about it. I 
had always dreaded the undertaking so bad, that I had 
put the evil hour off as long as possible; and, indeed, I 
calculated they knowed me so well, they wouldn’t raise 
any objection to having me for their son-in-law. I had 
a great deal better opinion of myself, I found, than other 
people had of me ; but I moved on with a light, heart, 
and my five dollars jingling in my pocket, thinking all 
the time there was but few greater men in the world than 
myself. 

In this flow of good humor, I went ahead till ± got 
within about two miles of fhe place, when I concluded I 
would stop awhile at the house of the girl’s uncle, where 
I might enquire about the family, and so forth, and so 
cn. 1 was, indeed, just about ready to consider her un¬ 
cle my uncle ; and her affairs, my affairs. When I went 
in, tho’, I found her sister there. I asked how all nas 
at home ? In a minute I found from her countenance- 
something was wrong. She looked mortified, and Iidr» i 
answer as quick as I thought she ought, being it was her 
brother-in-law talking to her. However, I asked her 
again. She then burst into tears, and told me her sister 
was going to deceive me; and that she was to be mar¬ 
ried to another man the next day. This was as sudden 
4 


DAVID SICK AT HEART. 


50 

to me as a clap of thunder of a bright, sunshiny day. 1* 
was the capstone of all the afflictions I had ever net 
with; and it seemed to me that it was more than any 
human creature could endure. It struck me perfectly 
speechless for some time, and made me feel so weak that 
I thought I should sink down. I, however, recovered 
fiom my shock after a little, and rose and started with¬ 
out any ceremony, or even bidding anybody good-bye. 
The young woman followed me out to the gate, and en¬ 
treated me to go on to her father’s, and said she would 
go with me. She said the young man who was going to 
marry her sister, had got his license and asked for her; 
but she assured me her father and mother both preferred 
me to him ; and that she had no doubt but that, if I 
would go on, I could break off the match. But I found 
that I could go no further. My heart was bruised, and 
my spirits were broken down; so I bid her farewell, and 
turned my lonesome and miserable steps back again 
homeward, concluding that I was only born for hard¬ 
ships, misery, and disappointment. I now began to 
think that, in making me, it was entirely forgotten to 
make my mate; that I was born odd, and should always 
remain so, and that nobody would have me. 

But all these reflections did not satisfy my mind, for 
I had no peace day nor night for several weeks. My 
appetite failed me, and I grew daily worse and worse 
They all thought I was sick ; and so I wa» And it waa 
the worst kind of sickness,—a sickness of the heart, 
and all the tender parts, produced by disappoint love. 


CHAPTER IV. 


Crockett goes a hunting—The Dutch widow—Ugly daughter—Crook 
ett goes to a reaping—The old Irish woman—Crockett dances with 
her daughter—Makes love to her—A rival—Crockett lost in the 
woods—Meets his lady-love—Opposition of her mother to the mar¬ 
riage—Crockett married—Mother-in-law reconciled—Two suns 
born—Removal to Lincoln county—Removal to Franklin councy. 

I continued in this down-spirited situation for a good 
long time, until one day I took my rifle and started a 
hunting. While out, I made a call at the house of a Dutch 
widow, who had a daughter that was well enough as to 
smartness, but she was as ugly as a stone fence. She 
was, however, quite talkative, and soon began to laugh 
at me about my disappointment. 

She seemed disposed, though, to comfort me as much 
a3 she could; and, for that purpose, told me to keep in 
good heart, that “ there was as good fish in the sea as 
had ever been caught out of it.” I doubted this very 
much; but whether or not, I was certain that she was 
net one of them, for she was so homely that it almost 
gave me a pain in the eyes to look at her. 

But I couldn’t help thinking that she had intended 
what she had said as a banter for me to court her!!! — 
the Ia3t thing in creation I could have thought of doing. 
J felt little inclined to talk on the subject, it is true; 
but, to pass off the time, I told her I thought I was born 


52 


THE OLD IRISH WOMAN. 


add, and that no fellow to me could be found Sho 
protested against this, and said if I would come to their 
reaping, which was not far off, she would show me one 
of the prettiest little girls there I had ever seen. She 
ad led that the one who had deceived me was nothing to 
be compared with her. I didn’t believe a word of all 
this, for I had thought that such a piece of flesh and 
blood as she was had never been manufactured, and never 
would again. I agreed with her, though, that the little 
varment had treated me so bad, that I ought to forget 
her, and yet I couldn’t do it. I concluded the best way 
to accomplish it was to cut out again, and see if I could 
find any other that would answer me; and so I told the 
Dutch girl that I would be at the reaping, and would 
bring as many as I could with me. 

I employed my time pretty generally in giving infor¬ 
mation of it, as far as I could, until the day came; and 
I then offered to work for my old friend, the Quaker, 
two days, if he would let his hound boy go with me one 
to the reaping. He refused, and reproved me pretty 
considerable roughly for my proposition ; and said, if he 
was in my place he wouldn’t go; that there would be a 
great deal of bad company there; and that I had been 
so good a boy, he would be sorry for me to get a bad 
name. But I knowed my promise to the Dutch girl, and 
I was resolved to fulfil it; so I shouldered my rifle, and 
started by myself. When I got to the place, I found a 
large company of men and women, and among them an 
old Irish woman, who had a great deal to say. I soon 
found out from my Dutch girl, that this old lady was 
the mother of the little girl she had promised me, though 


THE REAPING FROLIC. 


58 


I Lad not yet seen her. She was in an out-house with 
some other youngsters, and had not yet made her ap¬ 
pearance. Her mamma, however, was no way bashful. 
She came up to me, and began to praise my red cheeks, 
and said she had a sweetheart for me. I had no doubt 
she had been told what I come for, and all about it. In 
the evening I was introduced to her daughter, and I 
must confess I was plaguy well pleased with her from 
the word go. She had a good countenance, and was 
very pretty, and I was full bent on making up an 
acquaintance with her. 

It was not long before the dancing commenced, and 
I asked her to join me in a reel. She very readily con¬ 
sented to do so; and after we had finished our dance, I 
took a seat alongside of her, and entered into a talk. 
I found her very interesting; while I was sitting by her, 
making as good a use of my time as I could, her mother 
came to us, and very jocularly called me her son-in-law. 
This rather confused me, hut I looked on it as a joke of 
the old lady, and tried to turn it off* as well as I could; 
but I took care to pay as much attention to her through 
the evening as I could. I went on the old saying, of 
salting the cow to catch the calf. I soon become so 
much pleased with this little girl, that I began to think 
the Dutch girl had told me the truth, when she said there 
was still good fish in the sea. 

We continued our frolic till near day, when we joined 
in some plays, calculated to amuse youngsters. I had 
not often spent a more agreeable night. In the morn¬ 
ing, however, we all had to part; and I found my mind 
had become much better reconciled than it had been for 


54 


NEW LOVE AFFAIR. 


a 5ong time. I went heme to the Quaker’s, and made 
a bargain to work with his son for a low-priced horse. 
He was the first one I had ever owned, and I was to 
work six months for him. I had been engaged very 
closely five or six weeks, when this little girl run in my 
mind so, that I concluded I must go and see her, and 
find out what sort of people they were at home. I 
mounted my horse and away I went to where she lived, 
and when I got there I found her father a very clever 
old man, and the old woman as talkative as ever. She 
wanted badly to find out all about me, and as I thought, 
to see how I would do for her girl. I had not yet seen 
her about, and I began to feel some anxiety to know 
where she was. 

In a short time, however, my impatience was relieved, 
as she arrived at home from a meeting to which she had 
been. There was a young man with her, who I soon 
found was disposed to set up claim to her, as he was so 
attentive to her that I could hardly get to slip in a word 
edgeways. I began to think I was barking up the 
wrong tree again; but I was determined to stand up to 
my rack, fodder or no fodder. And so, to know her 
mind a little on the subject, I began to talk about start¬ 
ing, as I knowed she would then show some sign, from 
which I could understand which way the wind blowed. 
It was then near night, and my distance was fifteen 
miles home. At this my little girl soon began to indi¬ 
cate to the other gentleman that his room would be the 
better part of his company. At length she left him, 
and came to me, and insisted mighty hard that I should 
not go that evening; and, indeed, from all her actions 


A RIVAL. 


55 


and the attempts she made to get rid of him, I saw that 
she preferred me all holler. But it wasn’t long before 
I found trouble enough in another quarter. Her mother 
was deeply enlisted for my rival, and I had to fght 
against her influence as well as his. But the girl her¬ 
self was the prize I was fighting for; and as she wel¬ 
comed me, I was determined to lay siege to her, let what 
would happen. I commenced a close courtship, having 
cornered her from her old beau ; while he set off, looking 
on, like a poor man at a country frolic, and all the time 
almost gritting his teeth with pure disappointment. 
But he didn’t dare to attempt anything more, for now I 
had gotten a start, and I looked at him every once in a 
while as fierce as a wild-cat. I staid with her until 
Monday morning, and then I put out for home. 

It was about two weeks after this that I was sent for 
to engage in a wolf hunt, where a great number of men 
were to meet, with their dogs and guns, and where the 
best sort of sport was expected. I went as large as life, 
but I had to hunt in strange woods, and in a part of the 
country which was very thinly inhabited. While I was 
out it clouded up, and I began to get scared; and in a 
little while I was so much so, that I didn’t know which 
way home was, nor anything about it. I set out the way 
I thought it was, but it turned out with me, as it always 
does with a lost man, I was wrong, and took exactly the 
contrary direction from the right one. And for the in¬ 
formation of young hunters, I will just say, in this place, 
that whenever a fellow gets bad lost, the way home is 
just the way he don’t think it is. This rule will hit nine 
times out of ten. I went ahead, though, about six or 


60 


LOST IN THE WOODS. 


seven miles, when I found night was coming on fast; bat 
o.t this distressing time I saw a little woman streaking it 
along through the woods like all wrath, and so I cut on 
too, for I was determined I wouldn’t lose sight of her 
that night any more. I run on till she saw me, and she 
stopped; for she was as glad to see me as I was to see 
her, as she was lost as well as me. When I came up to 
her, who should she be hut my little girl, that I had 
been paying my respects to ? She had been out hunting 
her father’s horses, and had missed her way, and had no 
knowledge where she was, or how far it was to any house, 
or what way would take us there. She had been travel¬ 
ing all day, and was mighty tired; and I would have 
taken her up, and toated her, if it hadn’t been that I 
wanted her just where I could see her all the time, for 
I thought she looked sweeter than sugar; and by this 
time I loved her almost well enough to eat her. 

At last I came to a path, that I know’d must go some¬ 
where, and so we followed it, till we came to a house, at 
about dark. Here we staid all night. I sat up all night 
courting, and in the morning we parted. She went to 
her home, from which we were distant about seven miles, 
and I to mine, which was ten miles off. 

I n:>w turned in to work again; and it was about foul 
weeks before I went back to see her. I continued to go 
occasionally, until I had worked long enough to pay for 
my horse, by putting in my gun with my work, to the 
man I had purchased from; and then I began to count 
whether I was to be deceived again or not. At our next 
meeting, we set the day for our wedding; and I went to 
my fathci ’s to make arrangements for an infair, and ro- 


OPPOSITION. 


57 


turned to ask her parents for her. When I got there, 
the old lady appeared to be mighty wrathy; and when I 
broached the subject, she looked at me as savage as a 
nieat axe. The old man appeared quite willing, and 
treated me very clever. But I hadn’t been there long, 
before the old woman as good as ordered me out of her 
house. I thought I would put her in mind of old times, 
and see how that would go with her. I told her she had 
called me her son-in-law before I had attempted to call 
her my mother-in-law, and I thought sue ought to cool 
off. But her Irish was up too high to do anything with 
her, and so I quit trying. All I cared for, was to have 
her daughter on my side, which I knowed was the case 
then; but how soon some other fellow might knock my 
nose out of joint again, I couldn’t tell. I, however, felt 
rather insulted at the old lady, and I thought I wouldn’t 
get married in her house. And so I told her girl, that 
I would come the next Thursday, and bring a horse, 
bridle, and saddle for her, and she must be ready to go. 
Her mother declared I shouldn’t have her; but I know’d 
I should, if somebody else didn’t get her before Thurs¬ 
day. I then started, bidding them good day, and went 
by the house of a justice of the peace, who lived on the 
way to my father’s, and made a bargain with him to 
marry me. 

When Thursday came, all necessary arrangements 
were made at my father’s to receive my w T ife; and so J 
took my eldest brother and his wife, and another brother, 
and a single sister that I had, and two other young men 
with me, and cut out to her father’s house to get her. 
We went on, until we got within two miles of the place. 


58 


CROCKETT'S MARRIAGE. 


where we met a large company that had heard of the 
wedding, and were waiting. Some of that company 
went on with my brother and sister, and the young man 
I had picked out to wait on me. When they got there, 
they found the old lady as wrathy as ever. However, 
the old man filled their bottle, and the young men re¬ 
turned in a hurry. I then went on with my company, 
and when I arrived I never pretended to dismount from 
my horse, but rode up to the door, and asked the girl if 
she was ready; and she said she was. I then told her to 
light on the horse I was leading; and she did so. Her 
father, though, had gone out to the gate, and when I 
started, he commenced persuading me to stay and marry 
there; that he was entirely willing to the match, and 
that his wife, like most women, had entirely too much 
tongue; but that I oughtn’t to mind her. I told him 
if she would ask me to stay and marry at her house, I 
would do so. With that he sent for her, and after they 
had talked for some time out by themselves, she came to 
rue and looked at me mighty good, and asked my pardon 
for what she had said, and invited me to stay. She said 
it was the first child she ever had to marry; and she 
couldn’t bear to see her go off in that way; that if I 
would light, she would do the best she could for us. I 
couldn’t stand everything, and so I agreed, and we got 
down, and went in. I sent off then for my parson, and 
got married in a short time; for I was afraid to wait 
long, for fear of another defeat. We had as good treat¬ 
ment as could be expected; and that night all went on 
well. The next day we cut out for my father’s, where 
we met a large company of people, that had been waiting 


HOUSEKEEPING. 


69 


a day and a night for our arrival. We passed the time 
quite merrily, until the company broke up; and having 
gotten my wife, I thought I was completely made up, 
and needed nothing more in the whole world. But I 
soon found this was all a mistake—for now having a 
wife, I wanted everything else; and, worse than all, I 
had nothing to give for it. 

I remained a few days at my father’s, and then went 
back to my new father-in-law’s, wdiere, to my surprise, 1 
found my old Irish mother in the finest humor in the 
•world. 

She gave us two likely cows and calves, which, though 
it was a small marriage portion, was still better than I 
had expected, and, indeed, it was about all I ever got. 
I rented a small farm and cabin, and went to work; but 
[ had much trouble to find out a plan to get anything to 
put in my house. At this time, my good old friend the 
Quaker came forward to my assistance, and gave me an 
order to a store for fifteen dollars’ worth of such things 
as my little wife might choose. With this, we fixed up 
pretty grand, as we thought, and allowed to get on very 
well. My wife had a good wheel, and know’d exactly 
how to use it. She was also a good weaver, as most of 
the Irish are, whether men or women; and being very 
industrious with her wheel, she had, in a little or no 
time, a fine web of cloth, ready to make up; and she 
was good at that, too, and at almost anything else that 
n woman could do. 

We worked on for some years, renting ground and 
paying high rent, until I found it wasn’t the thing it was 
cracked up to be, and that I couldn’t make a fortune at 


REMOVALS. 


it. just at all. So I concluded to quit it, and cut out for 
S'*me new country. In this time we had two sons, and 
I found I was better at increasing my family than my 
fortune. It w r as, therefore, the more necessary that I 
should hunt some better place to get along; and as I 
knowed I would have to move at some time, I thought it 
was better to do it before my family got too large, that 
I might have less to carry. 

The Duck and Elk river country was just beginning to 
settle, and I determined to try that. I had now one old 
horse, and a couple of two year old colts. They were 
both broke to the halter, and my father-in-law proposed, 
that if I "went, he would go with me, and take one horso 
to help me move. So we all fixed up, and I packed my 
two colts with as many of my things as they could bear; 
and away w r e went across the mountains. We got on 
well enough, and arrived safely in Lincoln county, on the 
head of the Mulberry fork of Elk river. I found this a very 
rich country, and so new that game of different sorts was 
very plenty. It was here that I began to distinguish myself 
as a hunter, and to lay the foundation for all my future 
greatness ; but mighty little did I know of what sort it 
was going to be. Of deer and smaller game I killed 
abundance ; but the bear had been much hunted in those 
parts before, and were not so plenty as I could have 
wished. I lived here in the years 1809 and MO, to the 
best of my recollection, and then I moved to Franklin 
county, and settled on Beans creek, where I remained 
till after the close of the last war. 


CHAPTER V 


The Creek War—Massacre at Fort Mimms—Crockett voluntecrsh— 
Joins Captain Jones’ Company of Mounted Volunteers—Beaty s 
Spring—Major Gibson—Crockett goes out as a Scout with George 
Russell—Scouting Adventures—Crockett returns, and reports to 
General Coffee—Express sent to General Jackson—His arrival in 
camp. 

I WAS living ten miles below Winchester when the 
Creek war commenced : and as military men are making 
so much fuss in the -world at this time, I must give an 
account of the part I took in the defence of the country. 
If it should make me President, why I can’t help it; 
such things will sometimes happen, and my pluck is, 
never to “seek nor decline office.” 

It is true, I had a little rather not; hut yet, if the 
government can’t get on without taking another Presi¬ 
dent from Tennessee, to finish the work of “ retrench¬ 
ment and reform,” why, then, I reckon I must go in for 
it. But I must begin about the war, and leave the other 
matter for the people to begin on. 

The Creek Indians had commenced their open hostili¬ 
ties by a most bloody butchery at Fort Mimms.* There 
had been no war among us for so long, that but few who 


* This terrible disaster took place on the 30th of August, 1813 ll 
id particularly described iu the 7th chapter of this work. 

C 61 ) 



62 


CROCKETT JOINS JACKSON’S ARMY. 


were not too old to bear arms, knew anything about tha 

business. I, for one, had often thought about war, and 

had often heard it described ; and I did verily believe in 

my own mind, that I couldn’t fight in that way at all: 

lut my after experience convinced me that this was all a 

notion. For, when I heard of the mischief which was 

* 

done at the fort, I instantly felt like going, and I had 
none of the dread of dying that I expected to feel. In 
a few days, a general meeting of the militia was called, 
for the purpose of raising volunteers ; and when the day 
arrived for that meeting, my wife, who had heard me say 
I meant to go to the war, began to beg me not to turn 
out. She said she was a stranger in the parts where we 
lived, had no connections living near her, and that she 
and our little children would be left in a lonesome and 
unhappy situation if I went away. It was mighty hard 
to go against such arguments as these; but my country¬ 
men had been murdered, and I knew that the next thing 
would be that the Indians would be scalping the women 
and children all about there, if we didn’t put a stop to 
it. I reasoned the case with her as well as I could, and 
told her that if every man w r ould wait till his wife got 
willing for him to go to war, there would be no fighting 
done, until we would all be killed in our own houses; 
that I was as able to go as any man in the worl 1, and 
that I believed it was a duty I owed to my country. 
Whether she was satisfied with this reasoning or not, she 
did not tell me, but seeing I was bent on it, all she did 
was to cry a little, and turn about to her work. The 
truth is, my dander was up, and nothing but war could 
bring it right again. 


CAPTAIN JONES. 


68 


I. went to Winchester, where the muster was to be, and 
a great many people had collected, for there was as much 
fuss among the people about the war as there is now 
about moving the deposites. When the men were pa¬ 
raded, a lawyer by the name of Jones addressed us, and 
closed by turning out himself, and enquiring at the same 
time, who among us felt like we*could fight the Indians? 
This was the same Mr. Jones who afterwards served in 
Congress, from the State of Tennessee. He informed 
us he wished to raise a company, and that then the men 
should meet and elect their own officers. I believe I was 
about the second or third man that stepp’d out; but on 
marching up and down the regiment a few times, we found 
we had a large company. We volunteered for sixty days, 
as it was supposed our services would not he longer 
wanted. A day or two after this, we met and elected 
Mr. Jones our captain, and also elected our other officers. 
We then received orders to start on the next Monday 
week; before which time I had fixed as well as I could 
to go, and my wife had equipp’d me as well as she was 
able for the camp. The time arrived ; I took a parting 
farewell of my wife and my little hoys, mounted my 
horse, and set sail to join my company. Expecting to 
be gone only a short time, I took no more clothing with 
me than I supposed would be necessary, so that if I got 
into an Indian battle, I might not be pestered with any 
unnecessary plunder to prevent my having a fair shake 
with them. We all met and went ahead, till we passed 
Huntsville, and camped at a large spring called Beaty’s 
spring. Here we staid for several days, in which time 
the troops began to collect from all quarters. At last 


64 


MAJOR GIBSON. 


we mustered about thirteen hundred strong, all mourted 
volunteers, and all determined to fight, judging from my¬ 
self, for I felt wolfish all over. I verily believe the whole 
army was of the real grit. Our captain didn’t want any 
other sort: and to try them he several times told his 
men that if any of them wanted to go back home, they 
might do so at any time before they were regularly mus¬ 
tered into the service. But he had the honor to com¬ 
mand all his men from first to last, as not one of them 
left him. 

General Jackson had not yet left Nashville with his 
old foot volunteers, that had gone with him to Natchez 
in 1812, the year before. While we remained at the 
spring, a Major Gibson came, and wanted some volun¬ 
teers to go with him across the Tennessee river and intc 
the Creek nation, to find out the movements of tlK In¬ 
dians. He came to my captain, and asked for two of 
his best woodsmen, and such as were best with a rifle. 
The captain pointed me out to him, and said he would bo 
security that I would go as far as the major would him¬ 
self, or any other man. I willingly engaged to go with 
him, and asked him to let me choose my own mate to go 
with me, which he said I might do. I chose a young 
man by the name of George Russel, a son of old Major 
Russel, of Tennessee. I called him up, but Major Gibson 
said he thought he hadn’t beard enough to please him, 
—he wanted men, and not boys. I must confess I was 
a little nettled at this; for I know’d George Russel, and 
I know’d there was no mistake in him; and I didn’t 
think that courage ought to be measured by the beard, 
for fear a goat would have the preference over a maD. I 


SCOUTING ADVENTURES. 


63 


told the major lie was on the wrong scent; that Russel 
could go as far as he could, and I must have him along. 
He saw I was a little wrathy, and said I had the best 
chance of knowing, and agreed that it should be as I 
wanted it. He told us to be ready early in the morning for 
a start; and so we were. We took our camp equipage, 
mounted our horses, and thirteen in number, including 
the major, we cut out. We went on and crossed tlio 
Tennessee river at a place called Ditto’s Landing; and 
then travelled about seven miles further, and took up 
camp for the night. Here a man by the name of John 
Haynes overtook us. He had been an Indian trader in 
that part of the nation, and was well acquainted with 
it. He went with us as a pilot. The next morning, how¬ 
ever, Major Gibson and myself concluded we should sepa¬ 
rate and take different directions to see what discoveries 
we could make; so he took seven of the men, and I five, 
making thirteen in all, including myself. He was to go 
by the house of a Cherokee Indian, named Dick Brown, 
and I was to go by Dick’s father’s; and getting all the 
information we could, we were to meet that evening where 
the roads came together, fifteen miles the other side of 
Brown’s. At old Mr. Brown’s I got a half blood Chero¬ 
kee to agree to go with me, whose name was Jack 
Thompson. He was not then ready to start, but was to 
fix that evening, and overtake us at the fork road where 
I was to meet Major Gibson. I know’d it wouldn’t bo 
iafe to camp right at the road; and so I told Jack, that 
when he got to the fork he must holler like an owl, and 
[ would answer him in the same way; for I know'd it 

would be night before he got there. I and my men then 
5 


66 


SCOUTING ADVENTURES. 


started, and went on to the place of meeting, but Major 
Uibson was not there. We waited till almost dark but 
still he didn’t come. We then left the Indian trace a 
little distance and turning into the head of a hollow, we 
struck up camp. It was about ten o’clock at night when 
I heard my owl, and I answered him. Jack soon found 
us. and we determined to rest there during the night. 
We staid also next morning till after breakfast: but in 
vain, for the major didn’t still come. 

I told the men we had set out to hunt a fight, and I 
wouldn’t go back in that way ; that we must go ahead, 
and see what the red men were at. We started and 
went to a Cherokee town about twenty miles off; and 
after a short stay there, we pushed on to the house of a 
man by the name of Radcliff. He was a white man, but 
had married a Creek woman, and lived just in the edge 
of the Creek nation. He had two sons, large likely fel¬ 
lows, and a great deal of potatoes and corn, and, indeed, 
almost every thing else to go on ; so we fed our horses 
and got dinner with him, and seemed to be doing mighty 
well. But he was bad scared all the time. He told us 
that there had been ten painted warriors at his house 
only an hour before, and if we were discovered there, 
they would kill us and his family with us. I replied to 
him, that my business was to hunt for just such fellows 
as he had described, and I was determined not to go back 
until I had done it. Our dinner being over, we saddle 1 
up our horses, and made ready to start. But some of 
my small company I found were disposed to return. I 
told them, if w T e were to go back then, we should never 
hear the last of it: and I was determined to go ahea/l. 


THE NEGRO. 


67 

I knowed some of them would go with me, and that the 
rest were afraid to go back by themselves; and so we 
pushed on to the camp of some friendly Creeks, which 
was distant about eight miles. The moon was about tho 
full, and the night was clear; we therefore had the 
benefit of her light from night to morning, and I knew 
if we were placed in such danger as to make a retreat 
necessary, we could travel by night as well as in the day 
time. 

We had not got very far when we met two negroes, 
well mounted on Indian ponies, and each with a good 
rifle. They had been taken from their owners by the 
Indians, and were running away from them, and trying 
to get back to their masters again. They were brothers, 
both very large and likely: and could talk Indian as well 
as English. One of them I sent on to Ditto’s Landing, 
the other I took back with me. It was aftei dark when 
we got to the camp, where we found about forty men. 
women, and children. 

They had bows and arrows, and I turned in to shoot¬ 
ing with their boys by a pine light. In this way we 
amused ourselves very well for a while, but at last the 
negro, who had been talking to the Indians, came to mo 
and told me they were very much alarmed, for the “ red 
sticks,” as they called the war party of the Creeks, would 
come and find us there; and. if so, we should all bo 
killed. I directed him to tell them that I would wat.h, 
and if one would come that night, I would carry the skin 
of his head home to make me a moccasin. When he 
made this communication, the Indians laughed aloud. 
At about ten o’clock at night we all concluded to try to 


68 


NIGHT ALARM. 


sleep a little; but that our horses might be ready for use, 
as the treasurer said of the drafts on the United States’ 
bank, on certain “contingencies,” we tied them up with 
our saddles on them, and every thing to our hand, if in 
the night our quarters should get uncomfortable. Wo 
lay down with our guns in our arms, and I had just gotten 
into a doze of sleep, when I heard the sharpest scream 
that ever escaped the throat of a human creature. It 
was more like a wrathy painter than any thing else. 
The negro understood it, and he sprang to me; for tho’ 
I heard the noise well enough, yet I wasn’t wide awake 
enough to get up. So the negro caught me, and said the 
red sticks was coming. I rose quicker then, and asked 
what was the matter ? Our negro had gone and talked 
with the Indian who had just fetched the scream, as ho 
came into camp, and learned from him, that the war party 
had been crossing the Coosa river all day at the Ten 
Islands; and were going on to meet Jackson, and this 
Indian had come as a runner. This news very much 
alarmed the friendly Indians in camp, and they 'were all 
off in a few* minutes. I felt bound to make this intelli¬ 
gence known as soon as possible to the army we had left 
at the landing ; and so we all mounted our horses, and 
put out in a long lope to make our way back to that 
place. W’e were about sixty-five miles off. We went on 
to the same Cherokee town we had visited on our way 
out, having first called at Radcliff’s who was off with his 
family; and at the town we found large fires burning, 
but not a single Indian was to be seen. They were all 
gone. These circumstances were calculated to lay our 
dander a little, as it appeared we must be in great dan- 


CROCKETT REPORTS HIS ADVENTURES. 63 

ger; though we could easily have licked any force of not 
more than five to one. But we expected the whole na¬ 
tion would be on us, and against such fearful odds we 
were not so rampant for a fight. 

We therefore staid only a short time in the light of 
the fires about the town, preferring the light of the 
moon and the shade of the woods. We pushed on till 
we got again to old Mr. Brown’s, which was still about 
thirty miles from where we had left the main army. 
When we got there, the chickens were just at the first 
crowing for day. We fed our horses, got a morsel to 
eat ourselves, and again cut out. About ten o’clock in 
the morning we reached the camp, and I reported to 
Col. Coffee the news. He didn’t seem to mind my 
report a hit, and this raised my dander higher than 
ever; but I knowed I had to be on my best behaviour, 
and so I kept it all to myself; though I was so mad 
that I was burning inside like a tar-kiln, and I wonder 
that the smoke hadn’t been pouring out of me at all 
points. 

Major Gibson hadn’t yet returned, and we all began 
to think he was killed; and that night they put out a 
double guard. The next day the Major got in, and 
brought a worse tale than I had, though he stated the 
same facts so far as I went. This seemed to put our 
colonel all in a fidget; and it convinced me, clearly, of 
one of the hateful ways of the world. When I made 
my report, it wasn’t believed, because I was no officer: 
I was no great man, but just a poor soldier. But when 
the same thing was reported by Major Gibson!! why, 


70 


EXPRESS TO GENERAL JACKSON. 


then it was all as true as preaching, and the colonel 
believed it every word. 

He, therefore, ordered breastworks to be thrown up 
near a quarter of a mile long, and sent an express to 
Fayetteville, where General Jackson and his troops was. 
requesting them to push on like the very mischief, for 
fear we should all be cooked up to a cracklin before 
they could get there. Old Hickory-face made a forced 
march on getting the news; and on the next day, he 
and his men got into camp, with their feet all blistered 
from the effects of their swift journey. The volunteers, 
fcher^ore, stood guard altogether, to let them rest. 


CHAPTER VI. 


Oockptt sent off with a detachment—Burning of Black Warrior’s 
town—Crockett goes a hunting to supply provision for the detach¬ 
ment—His success—Rejoins the main army—Battle with the In¬ 
dians—Return to Fort Strother—Famine in the camp—Expedi¬ 
tion to Fort Taladega—Battle of Taladega—Famine—Mutiny— 
Crockett goes home with the other volunteers—Rejoins the army— 
Skirmish near Horse Shoe Bend—Another battle— Courage and 
skill of General Carroll. 

About eight hundred of the volunteers, and of that 
number I was one, were now sent back, crossing the 
Tennessee river, and on through Huntsville, so as to 
cross the river again at another place, and to get on the 
Indians in another direction.* After we passed Hunts 
ville, we struck on the river at Muscle Shoals, and at a 
place on them called Melton’s Bluff. This river is here 
about two miles wide, and a rough bottom ; so much so, 
indeed, in many places, as to be dangerous; and in 
fording it this time, we left several of the horses be¬ 
longing to our men, with their feet fast in the crevices 
of the rocks. The men, whose horses were thus left, 
went ahead on foot. We pushed on till we got to what 
was called the Black Warrior’s town, which stood near 


* This was in November, 1813. 
by General Coffee. 


The detachment was commanded 

( 71 ) 



72 BLACK WARRIOR’S TOWN BURNT. 

the very spot where Tuscaloosa now stands, which is the 
seat of government for the State of Alabama. 

This Indian town was a large one; but when we ar 
rived we found the Indians had all left it. There was 
a large field of corn standing out, and a pretty goou 
supply in some cribs. There was also a fine quantity 
of dried beans, which were very acceptable to us; and 
without delay we secured them as well as the corn, and 
then burned the town to ashes ; after which we left the 
place. 

In the field where we gathere 1 the corn we saw plenty 
of fresh Indian tracks, and we had no doubt they had 
been scared off by our arrival. 

We then went on to meet the main army at the fork 
road, where I was first to have met Major Gibson. We 
got that evening as far back as the encampment we had 
made the night before we reached the Black Warrior’s 
town, which we had just destroyed. The next day we 
were entirely out of meat. I went to Col. Coffee, who 
was then in command of us, and asked his leave to hunt 
as we marched. He gave me leave, but told me to take 
mighty good care of myself. I turned aside to hunt, 
and had not gone far when I found a deer that had just 
been killed and skinned, and his flesh was still warm 
and smoking. From this I was sure that the Indian 
who had killed it had been gone only a very few min¬ 
utes ; and though I was never much in favor ol Oua 
hunter stealing from another, yet meat was so scarce in 
camp, that I thought I must go in for it. So I just 
took up the deer on my horse before me, and carried it 
on till night. I could have sold it for almost any price 


CROCKETT GOES A IIUNTING. 


73 


I would have asked; but this wasn’t my rule, neither 
in peace nor war. Whenever I had anything, and saw 
a fellow-being suffering, I was more anxious to relieve 
him than tc benefit myself. And this is one of the true 
secrets of my being a poor man to this day. But it is 
my way; and while it has often left me with an empty 
purse, which is as near the devil as anything else 1 have 
seen, yet it has never left my heart empty of consolations 
which money couldn’t buy, the consolation of having 
sometimes fed the hungry and covered the naked. 

I gave all my deer away, except a small part I kept 
for myself, and just sufficient to make a good supper foi 
my mess ; for meat was getting to be a rarity to us all. 
We had to live mostly on parched corn. The next day 
we marched on, and at night took up camp near a large 
cane brake. While here, I told my mess I would again 
try for some meat; so I took my rifle and cut out, but 
hadn’t gone far, when I discovered a large gang of hogs. 
I shot one of them down in his tracks, and the rest broke 
directly towards the camp. In a few minutes the guns 
began to roar, as bad as if the whole army had been in 
an Indian battle, and the hogs to squeal as bad as the 
pig did, when the devil turned barber. I shouldered my 
hog, and went on to the camp; and when I got there I 
found they had killed a good many of the hogs, and a 
line fat cow into the bargain, that had broke out of the 
cane brake. We did very well that night, and the next 
morning marched on to a Cherokee town, where our 
officers stopp’d, and gave the inhabitants an order on 
Uncle Sam for their cow, and the hogs we had killed. 
The next day we met th) main army having had, as we 


74 


IMPRESSING MEN. 


thought, harl times, and a plenty of them, though we had 
yet seen hardly the beginning of trouble. 

After our meeting we w*ent on to Radcliff’s. where I 
had been before, while out as a spy; and when we got 
there, we found he had hid all his provisions. We also 
got into the secret, that he was the very rascal who had 
sent the runner to the Indian camp, with the news that 
the “red sticks” were crossing at the Ten Islands; and 
that his object was to scare me and my men away, and 
send us back with a false alarm. 

To make some atonement for this, we took the old 
Bcoundrel’s two big sons with us, and made them serve in 
the war. 

We then marched to a place which we called Camp 
Yvilis; and here it was that Captain Cannon w r as pro¬ 
moted to a colonel, and Colonel Coffee to a general. 
We then marched to the Ten Islands, on the Coosa river, 
where we established a fort, and our spy companies were 
sent out. They soon made prisoners of Bob Catala and 
his warriors, and, in a few days afterwards, we heard of 
some Indians in a town about eight miles off. So we 
mounted our horses, and put out for that town, under the 
direction of two friendly Creeks we had taken for pilots. 
We had also a Cherokee colonel, Dick Brown, and some 
of his men with us. When we got near the town we 
divided; one of our pilots going with each division. 
And so we passed on each side of the town, keeping near 
to it, until our lines met on the far side. We then closed 
up at both ends, so as to surround it completely; and 
then we sent Captain Hammond’s company of rangers 
to bring on the affray. He had advanced near the town* 


FIGHT WITH THE INDIANS. 


75 


when the Indians saw him, and they raised the yell,.and 
came running at him like so many red devils. The main 
army was now formed in a hollow square around the 
town, and they pursued Hammond till they came in reach 
of us. We then gave them a fire, and they returned it, 
and then ran back into their town. We began to close 
on the town by making our files closer and closer, and 
the Indians soon saw they were our property.. So 
most of them wanted us to take them prisoners; and 
their squaws and all would run and take hold of any of 
us they could, and give themselves up. I saw seven 
squaws have hold of one man, which made me think of 
the Scriptures. So I hollered out the Scriptures was 
fulfilling; that there was seven women holding to one 
man’s coat tail. But I believe it was a hunting-shirt all 
the time. We took them all prisoners that came out to 
us in this way; but I saw some warriors run into a house 
until I counted forty-six of them. We pursued them 
until we got near the house, when we saw a squaw sitting 
in the door, and she placed her feet against the bow she 
had in her hand, and then took an arrow, and, raising 
her feet, she drew with all her might, and let fly at us, 
and she killed a man, whose name, I believe, was Moore. 
He was a lieutenant, and his death so enraged us all, 
that she was fired on, and had at least twenty balls 
blown through her. This was the first man I ever saw 
killed with a bow and arrow. We now shot them like 
dogs; and then set the house on fire, and burned it up 
vith the forty-six warriors in it. I recollect seeing a 
boy who was shot down near the house. His arm and 
thigh was broken, and he was so near the burning houa* 


76 


FAMINE. 


that the grease was stewing out of him. In this sitna* 
tion he was still trying to crawl along; but not a murmur 
escaped him, though he was only about twelve years old. 
So sullen is the Indian, when his dander is up, that he 
had sooner die than make a noise, or ask for quarters.* 
The number that we took prisoners, being added to 
the number we killed, amounted to one hundred and 
eighty-six; though I don’t remember the exact number 
of either. We had five of our men killed. We then 
returned to our camp, at which our fort was erected, and 
known by the name of Fort Strother.f No provisions 
had yet reached us, and we had now been for several 
days on half rations. However, we went back to our 
Indian town on the next day, when many of the car¬ 
casses of the Indians were still to be seen. They looked 
very awful, for the burning had not entirely consumed 
them, but given them a terrible appearance, at least what 
remained of them. It was, somehow or other, found out 
that the house had a potato cellar under it, and an im¬ 
mediate examination was made, for we were all as hungry 
as wolves. We found a fine chance of potatoes in it, 
and hunger compelled us to eat them, though I had a 
little rather not, if I could have helped it, for the oil of 
the Indians we had burned up on the day before, had 
run down on them, and they looked like they had been 
stewed with fat meat. We then again returned to the 
army, and remained there for several days, almost starv¬ 
ing, as all our beef was gone. We commenced eating 
the beef-hides, and continued to eat every scrap we coulJ 
* This battle is generally called the battle of Tallushatchee 
t This is the Fort at Ten Islands, referred to before. 


EXPEDITION TO EOKT TALADEGA. 


77 


lay our hands on. At length an Indian came to our 
guard one night, and hollered, and said he wanted to see 
“Captain Jackson.” He was conducted to the general s 
markee, into which he entered, and in a few minutes we 
received orders to prepare for marching. 

In an hour we were all ready, and took up the line of 
march. We crossed the Coosa river, and went on in the 
direction to Fort Taladega. When we arrived near the 
place, we met eleven hundred painted warriors, the very 
choice of the Creek nation. They encamped near the 
fort, and had informed the friendly Indians who were in 
it, that if they didn’t come out, and fight with them against 
the whites, they would take their fort and all their am¬ 
munition and provision. The friendly party asked three 
days to consider of it, and agreed that if on the third day 
they didn’t come out ready to fight with them, they might 
take their fort. Thus they put them off. They then 
immediately started their runner to General Jackson, and 
he and the army pushed over, as I have just before 
stated. 

The camp of warriors had their spies out and disco¬ 
vered us coming some time before we got to the fort. 
They then went to the friendly Indians, and told them 
Captain Jackson was coming, and had a great many fine 
horses, and blankets, and guns and everything else, and 
if they would come out and help to whip him and to take 
his plunder, it should all be divided with those in the 
fort. They promised that when Jackson came they 
would then come out and help to whip him. It was 
about an hour by the sun in the morning when we got 
Dear the fort. We were piloted by friendly Indians and 


78 


BATTLE OF TALADE JA. 


divicrwi as we had done on a former occasion, so as to go 
to the r>ght and left of the fort, and, consequently, of 
the warnors who were camped near it. Our lines 
marched on as before, till they met in front, and then 
closed in the rear, forming again into a hollow square. 
We then *<ent on old Major Russel with his spy company, 
tc bring on the battle ; Captain Evans’ company went 
also. Wnen they got near the fort, the top of it was 
lined with the friendly Indians, crying out as loud as 
they could roar, “ How-dy-do, brother, how-dy-do?” 
They kept this up till Major Russel had passed by the 
fort, and was moving on towards the warriors. They 
were all painted as red as scarlet, and were just as naked 
as they were born. They had concealed themselves 
under the bank of a branch that ran partly around the 
fort, in the manner of a half moon. Russel was going 
right into their circle, for he couldn’t see them, while the 
Indians on the top of the fort were trying every plan to 
show him his danger. But he couldn’t understand them. 
At last, two of them jumped from it, and ran and took 
his horse by the bridle, and pointing to where they were, 
told him there were thousands of them lying under the 
bank. This brought them to a halt, and about this mo¬ 
ment the Indians fired on them, and came rushing forth 
like a cloud of Egyptian locusts, and screaming like all 
the young devils had been turned loose, with the old 
devil of all at their head. Russel’s company quit their 
horses and took into the fort, and their horses ran up to 
our line, which was then in full view. The warriors then 
came yelling on, meeting us, and continued till they were 
within shot of us, when we fired and killed a considers 


FAMINE AND MUTINY. 


7d 


ble number of them. They then broke like a gang of 
steers, and ran across to the other line, where they wers 
again fired on; and so we kept them running from one 
line to the other, constantly under a heavy fire, till 
we had killed upwards of four hundred of them. They 
fought with guns, and also with their bows and arrows; 
but at length they made their escape through a part of 
our line which was made up of drafted militia, which 
broke ranks and they passed. We lost fifteen of our 
men, as brave fellows as ever lived or died. We buried 
them all in one grave, and started back to our fort; but 
before we got there, two more of our men died of wounds 
they had received, making our total loss seventeen good 
fellows in that battle.* 

We now remained at the fort a few days, but no pro¬ 
vision came yet, and we were all likely to perish. The 
•weather also began to get very cold; and our clothes 
were nearly worn out, and horses getting very feeble and 
poor. Our officers proposed to General Jackson to let 
us return home and get fresh horses and fresh clothing, 
so as to be better prepared for another campaign, for our 
sixty days had long been out, and that was the time we 
entered for. 

But the general took “ the responsibility” on himself, 
and refused. We were, however, determined to go, as 1 
am to put back the deposites, if I can. With this, the 
general issued his orders against it, as he has against the 
bank. But we began to fix for a start, as provisions 


* This is the famous battle of Taladega, fought under Jacksoa’* 
immediate command, Dec. 7,1813. 



80 


VOLUNTEERS GO HOME. 


were too scarce, just as Clay, and Webster, and myself, 
are preparing to fix bank matters, on account of the 
scarcity of money. The general went and placed liis 
cannon on a bridge we had to cross, and ordered out his 
regulars and drafted men to keep us from crossing ; just 
as he has planted his Globe and Iv. C. to alarm the bank 
men, while his regulars and militia in Congress are to 
act as artillery men. But when the militia started to 
guard the bridge, they would holler back to us to bring 
their knapsacks along when we come, for they "wanted to 
go as bad as we did, just as many a good fellow now 
wants his political knapsack brought along, that, if when 
we come to vote, he sees he has a fair shake to go , he 
may join in and help us to take back the deposites. 

We got ready and moved on till we came near the bridge 
where the general’s men were all strung along on both 
sides, just like the office-holders are now, to keep us from 
getting along to the help of the country and the people. 
But we all had our flints ready picked, and our guns 
ready primed, that if we were fired on we might fight 
our way through, or all die together, just as we are now 
determined to save the country from ready ruin, or to 
sink down with it. When we came still nearer the bridge 
we heard the guards cocking their guns, and we did the 
same, just as we have had it in Congress, while the 
“government ” regulars and the people’s volunteers have 
ill been setting their political triggers. But, after all, 
ve marched boldly on, and not a gun was fired, ijor a 
life lost, just as I hope it will be again, that w T e shall not 
be afraid of the general’s Globe, nor his K. C., nor his 
regulars, nor their trigger snapping, but just march 






































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































' 


































cbo:kett rejoins the armt. 


8 1 


boldly over the «t<* native bridge, and take the deposit©* 
back -whore the iaw T nlaced them and where they ought 
to be. When we had passed, no further attempt was 
made to stop us ; but the general said we were “ the 
damned’st volunteers he had ever seen in his life; that 
we would volunteer and go out and fight, and then at our 
pleasure would volunteer and go home again in spite of 
the devil.” But we went on, and near Huntsville we 
met a reinforcement who were going on to join the army. 
It consisted of a regiment of volunteers, and was under 
the command of some one whose name I can’t remember. 
They were sixty day volunteers. 

We got home pretty safely, and in a short time we 
had procured fresh horses and a supply of clothing bet¬ 
ter suited for the season; and then we returned to Fort 
Deposite, -where our officers held a sort of a “ national 
convention 9 on the subject of a message they had re¬ 
ceived from General Jackson,—demanding that on our 
return we should serve out six months. We had already 
served three months instead of two, which was the time 
we had volunteered for. On the next morning the offi¬ 
cers reported to us the conclusions they had come to; 
and told us, if any of us felt bound to go on and serve 
out the six months, we could do so; but that they in¬ 
tended to go back home. I knowed if I went back horn© 
I wouldn’t rest, for I felt it my duty to be out; and 
when out I was, somehow or other, always delighted to 
be in the very thickest of the danger. A few of us, 
therefore, determined to push on and join the army. 
The number I do not recollect, but it was very small. 

When we got out there, I joined Major Russell’s com 
6 


82 


SKIRMISH WITH THE INDIANS. 


pany of spies. Before we reached the place, General 
Jackson had started. We went on likewise, and over¬ 
took him at a place where we established a fort, called 
Fort Williams, and leaving men to guard it, we went 
ahead; intending to go to a place called the Horseshoe 
bend on the Talapoosa river. When we came near that 
place, we began to find Indian sign plenty, and we struck 
up camp for the night. About two hours before day we 
heard our guard firing, and we were all up in little or 
no time. We mended up our camp fires, and then fell 
back in the dark, expecting to see the Indians pouring 
m; and intending, when they should do so, to shoot 
them by the light of our own fires. But it happened 
they did not rush in as we had expected, but commenced 
a fire on us as we were. We were encamped in a hollow 
square, and we not only returned the fire, but continued 
10 shoot as well as we could in the dark, till day broke, 
when the Indians disappeared. The only guide we had 
in shooting was to notice the flash of their guns, and 
then shoot as directly at the place as we could guess. 

In this scrape we had four men killed and several 
wounded, but whether we killed any of the Indians or 
not we never could tell, for it is their custom always to 
carry off their dead, if they can possibly do so. We 
buried ours, and then made a large log heap over them 
and set it on fire, so that the place of their deposit© 
might not be known to the savages, who we knew would 
seek for them that they might scalp them. We made 
some horse litters for our wounded, and took up a re¬ 
treat. We moved on till we came to a large creek which 
we bad to cross; and about half our men had crossed. 


GENERAL CARROLL’S BRAVERY. 


83 


when the Indians commenced firing on our left wing, and 
they kept it up very warmly. We had left Major Rus¬ 
sell and his brother at the camp we had moved from 
that morning, to see what discovery they could make as, 
to the movements of the Indians; and about this time, 
while a warm fire was kept up on our left, as I have just 
stated, the major came up in our rear, and was closely 
pursued by a large number of Indians, who immediately 
commenced a fire on our artillery men. They hid them¬ 
selves behind a large log, and could kill one of our men 
almost every shot, they being in open ground and ex¬ 
posed. The worst of all was, two of our colonels just at 
this trying moment left their men, and by a forced 
march, crossed the creek out of the reach of the fire. 
Their names, at this late day, would do the world no 
good, and my object is history alone, and not the slight¬ 
est interference with character. An opportunity was 
now afforded for Governor Carroll to distinguish himself, 
and on this occasion he did so, by greater bravery than 
I ever saw any other man display. In truth, I believe, 
as firmly as I do that General Jackson is President, that 
if it hadn’t been for Carroll, we should all have been 
genteely licked that time, for we were in a devil of a fix; 
part of our men on one side of the creek, and part on 
the other, and the Indians all the time pouring it on us, 
as hot as fresh mustard to a sore shin. I will not say 
exactly that the old general was whipped; but I will say, 
that if we escaped it at all, it was like old Henry Snider 
going to heaven, “mit a dam tite squeeze.” I think he 
would confess himself, that he was nearer whipp’d this 
time than he was at any other, for I know that all the 


84 


MIGHTY NEAR WHIPPED. 


world couldn’t make him acknowledge that he was 'point- 
tdly whipped. I know I was mighty glad when it was 
over, and the savages quit us, for I begun to think ther« 
was one behind every tree in the woods.* 

* This was the battle of Eustichopco, fought Janinwy 23d, Iftid 
Jackson in command. 



CHAPTER VII. 

Ivockett joins the army for the Florida campaign—Passes near Fori 
TVtimms— Arrival at Pensacola—General Jackson leaves for New 
Orleans—Crockett returns with his regiment to Fort Mimms—De¬ 
scription of the Fort and the massacre—March towards Pensacola 
—Preparations for a battle—Creeks killed—Expedition of Major 
Russell—Return to Pensacola. 

Soon after this, an army was to be raised to go to 
Pensacola, and I determined to go again with them, for 
I wanted a small taste of British fighting, and I supposed 
they ^ould be there. 

Here again the entreaties of my wife were thrown in 
the way of my going, but all in vain ; for I always had a 
way of just going ahead at whatever I had a mind to. 
One of my neighbours, hearing I had determined to go, 
came to me, and offered me a hundred dollars to go in 
his place as a substitute, as he had been drafted. I told 
him I was better raised than to hire myself out to be shot 
at; but that I would go, and he should go too, and in that 
way the government would have the services of us both. 
But we didn’t call General Jackson “the government’ , 
in those days, though we used to go tc fight under him 
in the war. 

I fixed up, and joined old Major Bussell again; but 
we couldn’t start with the main army, but followed on 
in a little time, after them. In a day or two, we had a 

(85) 


86 


GOES TO PENSACOLA. 


hundred and thirty men in our company; and we went 
over and crossed the Muscle Shoals at the same place 
where I had crossed when first out, and when we burned 
the Black Warrior’s town. We passed through the 
Choctaw and Chickesaw nations, on to Fort Stephens, 
and from thence to what is called the Cut-off, at the junc¬ 
tion of the Tom-Bigby with the Alabama river. This 
place is near old Fort Mimms, where the Indians com 
mitted the great butchery at the commencement of the 
war. 

We were here about two days behind the main army, 
who had left their horses at the Cut-off, and taken it on 
foot; and they did this because there was no chance for 
forage between there and Pensacola. We did the same, 
leaving men enough to take care of our horses, and cut 
on foot for that place. It was about eighty miles off; 
but in good heart we shouldered our guns, blankets, and 
provisions, and trudged merrily on. About twelve 
o’clock the second day, we reached the encampment of 
the main army, which was situated on a hill, overlooking 
the city of Pensacola. My commander Major Russell, 
was a great favorite with General Jackson, and our ar¬ 
rival was hailed with great applause, though we were a 
little after the feast; for they had taken the town and 
fort before we got there. That evening we went down 
into the town, and could see the British fleet lying in 
sight of the place. We got some liquor, and took a 
u horn” or so, and went back to the camp. We remained 
there that night, and in the morning we marched back 
towards the Cut-off. We pursued this direction till we 
reached old Fort Mimms, where we remained two or 


GOBS TO FORT MIMMS. 


87 


three days. It was here that Major Russell was pro¬ 
moted from his command, which was only that of a cap¬ 
tain of spies, to the command of a major in the line. He 
had been known long before at home as old Major Russell, 
and so we continued to call him in the army. A Major 
Childs, from East Tennessee, also commanded a battalion, 
and he, and the one Russell was appointed to com¬ 
mand, composed a regiment, which, by agreement with 
General Jackson, was to quit his army and go to the 
south, to kill up the Indians on the Scamby river. 

General Jackson and the main army set out the next 
morning for New Orleans, and a Colonel Blue took com¬ 
mand of the regiment which I have before described. 
We remained, however, a few days after the general’s 
departure, and then started also on our route. 

As it gave rise to so much war and bloodshed, it may 
not be improper here to give a little description of Fort 
Minims, and the manner in which the Indian war com¬ 
menced. The fort was built right in the middle of a 
large old field, and in it the people had been forted so 
long and so quietly, that they didn’t apprehend any dan¬ 
ger at all, and had, therefore, become quite careless. A 
small negro boy, whose business it was to bring up the 
calves at milking time, had been out for that purpose, 
and on coming back, he said he saw a great many 
Indians. At this the inhabitants took the alarm, and 
closed their gates and placed out their guards, which they 
sontinued for a few days. But finding that no attack 
was made, they concluded the little negro had lied; and 
again threw their gates open and set all their hands out 
to work their fields. The same boy was out again on the 


88 


MASSACRE AT FORT MIMMS. 


same errand, when, returning in great haste and alarm, 
he informed them that he had seen the Indians as thick 
as trees in the woods. He was not believed, but was 
tucked up to receive a flogging for the supposed lie; and 
was actually getting badly licked at the very moment 
when 'he Indians came in a troop, loaded with rails, with 
vvhicl they stopp’d all the port-holes of the fort on one side 
except the bastion ; and then they fell in to cutting down 
the picketing. Those inside the fort had only the bastion 
to shoot from, as all the other holes were spiked up; and 
they shot several of the Indians, while engaged in cutting. 
But as fast as one would fall, another would seize up the 
axe and chop away, until they succeeded in cutting down 
enough of the picketing to admit them to enter. They 
then began to rush through, and continued until they 
were all in. They immediately commenced scalping, 
without regard to age or sex; having forced the inhabi¬ 
tants up to one side of the fort, where they carried on 
the work of death as a butcher would in a slaughter pen. 

The scene was particularly described to me by a young 
man who was in the fort when it happened, and subse¬ 
quently went on with us to Pensacola. He said he saw 
his father, and mother, his four sisters, and the same 
number of brothers, all butchered in the most shocking 
manner, and that he made his escape by running over 
the heads of the crowd, who were against the fort wall, 
to the top <*f the fort, and then jumping off, and taking 
to the woods. He was closely pursued by several Indians, 
until he came to a small bayou, across which there was a 
log. He knew the log was hollow on the under side, so 
he slipp’d under the log and hid himself. He said ho 


MARCH TOWARD PENSACOLA. 


89 


hoard the Indians walk over him several times back and 
forward. He remained, nevertheless, still till night, when 
he came out and linished his escape. The name of this 
young man has entirely escaped my recollection, though 
his tale greatly excited my feelings. But to return to 
my subject. The regiment marched from where General 
Jackson had left us to Fort Montgomery, which was dis¬ 
tant from Fort Mimms about a mile and a half, and there 
we remained for some days. 

Here we supplied ourselves pretty well with beef, by 
killing wild cattle which had formerly belonged to the 
people who perished in the fort, but had gone wild after 
their massacre. 

When we marched from Fort Montgomery, we went 
some distance back towards Pensacola; then we turned 
to the left, and passed through a poor piny country, till 
we reached the Scamby river, near which we encamped. 
We had about one thousand men, and as a part of that 
number, one hundred and eighty-six Chickesaw and 
Choctaw Indians with us. That evening a boat landed 
from Pensacola, bringing many articles that were both 
good and necessary; such as sugar and coffee, and liquors 
of all kinds. The same evening, the Indians we had 
along proposed to cross the river, and the officers think¬ 
ing it might be well for them to do so, consented; and 
Major Bussell went with them, taking sixteen white men, 
of which number I was one. We camped on the opposite 
bank that night, and early in the morning we set out. 
We had not gone far before we came to a place where 
the whole country was covered with water, and looked 
like a sea. We didn’t stop for this, though, but just put in 


90 


PREPARATIONS FOR A FIGHT. 


like 60 many spaniels* and waded on, sometimes up to 
our arm pits, until we readied the pine hills, which made 
our distance through the water about a mile and a half. 
Here we struck up a fire to warm ourselves, for it was 
cold, and we were chilled through by being so long in the 
water. We again moved on, keeping our spies out; two 
to our left near the hank of the river, two straight before 
us, and five others on our right. We had gone in this 
way about six miles up the river, when our spies on the 
left came to us leaping the brush like so many old bucks, 
and informed us that they had discovered a camp of 
Creek Indians, and that we must kill them. Here we 
paused for a few minutes, and the prophets pow-wowed 
over their men awhile and then got out their paint, and 
painted them, all according to their custom when going 
mto battle. They then brought their paint to old Major 
Russell, and said to him, that as he was an officer, he 
must be painted too. He agreed, and they painted him 
just as they had done themselves. 

We let the Indians understand that we white men 
would first fire on the camp, and then fall back so as to 
give the Indians a chance to rush in and scalp them. 
The Chickesaws marched on our left hand, and the Choc¬ 
taws on our right, and we moved on till we got in hear¬ 
ing of the camp, where the Indians were employed in 
beating up what they called chainy briar root. On this 
they mostly subsisted. On a nearer approach, we found 
they were on an island, and that we could not get to 
them. While we were chatting about this matter, we 
heard some guns fired, and in a very short time after, a 
keen whoop, which satisfied us that wherever it was, 


CREEKS KILLED. 


91 


there was war on a small scale. With that, we all broke 
like quarter horses, for the firing, and when we got 
there, we found it w r as our two front spies, who related 
to us the following story :—As they were moving on, 
they had met with two Creeks who were out hunting 
their horses ; as they approached each other, there was 
a large cluster of green bay bushes exactly between them, 
so that they were within a few feet of meeting beforo 
either was discovered. Our spies walked up to them, 
and, speaking in the Shawnee tongue, informed them 
that General Jackson was at Pensacola, and they were 
making their escape, and wanted to know where they 
could get something to eat. The Creeks told them that 
nine miles up the Conaker, the river they were then on, 
there was a large camp of Creeks, and they had cattle 
and plenty to eat; and further, that their own camp was 
on an island about a mile off, and just below the mouth 
of the Conaker. They held their conversation, and 
struck up a fire and smoked together, and shook hands 
and parted. One of the Creeks had a gun, the other 
had none; and as soon as they had parted, our Choctaws 
turned round and shot down the one that had the gun, 
and the other attempted to run off. They snapped sev¬ 
eral times at him, but the gun still missing fire, they took 
after him, and overtaking him, one of them struck him 
over the head with his gun, and followed up his blows till 
he killed him. 

The gun was broken in the combat, and they then 
fired off the gun of the Creek they had killed, and raised 
the war-whoop. When we reached them, they had cut 
off the beads of both the Indians; and each of those In- 


TAKE THE CAMP. 


02 

dians with us would walk up to one of the heads, and ta¬ 
king his war-club would strike on it. This was don-e by 
every one of them; and when they had got done, I took 
one of their clubs and walked up as they had done, and 
struck it on the head also. At this, they all gathered 
round me, and patting me on the shoulder, would call me 
“Warrior, warrior.” 

They scalped the heads, and then we moved on a short 
distance to where we found a trace leading in towards 
the river. We took this trace and pursued it, till we 
came to where a Spaniard had been killed and scalped, 
together with a woman who we supposed to be his wife, 
and also four children. I began to feel mighty ticklish 
along about this time, for I knowed if there was no dan 
ger then, there had been, and I felt exactly like there 
still was. We, however, went on till we struck the river, 
and then continued down it till we came opposite to the 
Indian camp, where we found they were still beating 
their roots. 

It was now late in the evening, and they were in a 
thick cane-brake. We had some few friendly Creeks 
with us, who said they could decoy them. So we all hid 
behind trees and logs while the attempt was made. The 
Indians would not agree that we should fire, but picked 
out some of their best gunners and placed them near the 
river. Our Creeks went down to the river's side, and 
hailed the camp in the Creek language. We heard the 
answer, and an Indian man started down towards the 
river, but didn’t come in sight. He went back and again 
commenced beating his roots and sent a squaw. She 
came down and talked to our Creeks until dark came on 


RUSSELL’S EXPEDITION. 


93 


They told her they wanted her to bring them a canoe. 
To which she replied that their canoe was on our side; 
that two of their men had gone out to hunt their horses, 
and hadn’t yet returned. They were the same two we 
had killed. The canoe was found, and forty of our 
picked Indian warriors were crossed over to take the 
camp. There was at last only one man in it, and he es 
caped; and they took two squaws and ten children, but 
killed none of them, of course. 

We had run nearly out of provisions, and Major Rus¬ 
sell had determined to go up the Conaker to the camp we 
had heard of from the Indians we had killed. I was one 
that he selected to go down the river that night for pro¬ 
visions, with the canoe, to where we had left our regi¬ 
ment. I took with me a man by the name of John 
Guess and one of the friendly Creeks, and cut out. It 
was very dark, and the river was so full, that it over¬ 
flowed the banks and the adjacent low bottoms. This 
rendered it very difficult to keep the channel, and par¬ 
ticularly as the river was very crooked. At about ten 
o’clock at night we reached the camp, and were to re¬ 
turn by morning to Major Russell, with provisions for his 
trip up the river; but on informing Colonel Blue of this 
arrangement, he vetoed it as quick as General Jackson 
did the bank bill, and said, if Major Russell didn’t come 
back the next day, it would be bad times for him. I 
found we were not to go up the Conaker to the Indian 
camp, and a man of my company offered to go up in my 
place to inform Major Russell. I let him go ; and they 
reached the Major, as I was told, about sunrise in the 
morning, who immediately returned with those who were 


94 


RETURN TO PENSACOLA. 


with him, to the regiment, and joined us where we crossed 
the river, as hereafter stated. 

The next morning we all fixed up, and marched down 
the Scamby to a place called Miller’s Landing, where we 
swam our horses across, and sent on two companies down 
on the side of the bay, opposite to Pensacola, where the 
Indians had fled when the main army first marched to 
that place. One was the company of Captain William 
Russell, a son of the old Major, and the other was com¬ 
manded by a Captain Trimble. They went on, and had 
a little skirmish with the Indians. They killed some, 
and took all the balance prisoners, though I don’t re¬ 
member the numbers. 


CHAPTER VIII. 


Btait for Ohatahachy—Famine in Camp—Burning of town on the 
Obatahachy—Famine again—Crockett goes a huntiug—His success 
—Arrival at Fort Decatur—Crockett buys corn with bullets— 
March to Fort Williams—Pass the battle ground of Taladega— 
Pass the Coosa river—Crockett starts for home—Returns home— 
Joy of his family—Crockett’s sentiments on the Warrior career— 
Close of the War. 

When we made a move from the point where we met 
the companies, we set out for Chatahachy, the place for 
which we had started when we left Fort Montgomery. 
At the start, we had taken only twenty days’ rations of 
flour, and eight days’ rations of beef, and it was now 
thirty-four days before we reached that place. We were, 
therefore, in extreme suffering for want of something to 
eat, and exhausted with our exposure and the fatigues 
of our journey. I remember well, that I had not myself 
tasted bread but twice in nineteen days. I had brought 
a pretty good supply of coffee from the boat that had 
reached us from Pensacola, on the Scamby, and on that 
we chiefly subsisted. At length, one night our spies 
came in, and informed us they had found Holm’s village 
on the Chatahachy river ; and we made an immediate 
push for that place. We traveled all night expecting to 
get something to eat when we got there. We arrived 

about sunrise, and near the place prepared for battle. 

( 95 ) 


96 


TOWN BURNT 


We were all so furious, that even the certainty of a pretty 
hard fight could not have restrained us. We made a fu¬ 
rious charge on the town ; but to our great mortification 
and surprise, there was not a human being in it. Th& 
Indians had all run off and left it. We burned the town, 
however, but, melancholy to tell, we found no provision 
whatever. We then turned about, and went back to the 
camp we had left the night before, as nearly starved as 
any set of poor fellows ever were in the world. 

We staid there only a little while, when we divided 
our regiment; and Major Childs, w r ith his men, went 
back the way we had come for a considerable distance, 
and then turned to Baton-Rouge, where they joined 
General Jackson and the main army on their return from 
Orleans. Major Russell and his men struck for Fort 
Decatur, on the Talapoosa river. Some of our friendly 
Indians, who knew the country, went on ahead of us, as 
we had no trail except the one they made to follow. 
With them we sent some of our ablest horses and men, 
to get us some provisions, to prevent us from absolutely 
starving to death. As the army marched, I hunted 
every day, and would kill every hawk, bird, and squirrel 
that I could find. Others did the same; and it was a 
rule with us, that when we stop’d at night, the hunters 
would throw all they had killed in a pile, and then we 
would make a general division among all the men. One 
evening I came in, having killed nothing that day. I 
had a very sick man in my mess, and I wanted something 
for him to eat, even if I starved myself. So I went to 
the fire of a Captain Cowen, who commanded my com¬ 
pany after the promotion of Major Russell, and informed 


FAMINE. 


97 


V.im that I was on the hunt of something for a sick man 
to eat. I know’d the captain was as had off as the rest 
of us, but I found him broiling a turkey’s gizzard. lie 
said he had divided the turkey out among the tick, that 
Major Smiley had killed it, and that nothing else had 
been killed that day. I immediately went to Smiley’s 
fire, where I found him broiling another gizzard. I told 
him that it was the first turkey I had ever seen have two 
gizzards. But so it was, I got nothing for my sick man. 
And now, seeing that every fellow must shift for himself, 
I determined that in the morning I would come up miss¬ 
ing; so I took my mess, and cut out to go ahead of the 
army. We know’d that nothing more could happen to 
us if we went than if we staid, for it looked like it was 
to be starvation any way; we therefore determined to go 
on the old saying, root hog or die. We passed two 
camps, at which our men, that had gone on before us, 
had killed Indians. At one they had killed nine, and at 
the other three. About daylight we came to a small 
river, which I thought was the Scamby; but we continued 
on for three days, killing little or nothing to eat; till, at 
last, we all began to get nearly ready to give up the 
ghost, and lie down and die; for we had no prospect of 
provision, and we knew we couldn’t go much further 
without it. 

We came to a large prairie, that was about six miles 
across it, and in this I saw a trail which I knowcd was 
made by bear, deer, and turkeys. We went on through 
it till we came to a large creek, and the low grounds 
were all set over with wild rye, looking as green as a 
7 


98 


SUCCESS IN HUNTING. 


wheat field. We here made a halt, unsaddled our horses, 
and turned them loose to graze. 

One of my companions, a Mr. Yanzant, and myself, 
then went up the low grounds to hunt. We had gone 
ftocj distance, finding nothing; when, at last, I found a 
squirrel, which I shot, but he got into a hole in the tree. 
The game was small, but necessity is not very particu¬ 
lar; so I thought I must have him, and I climbed that 
tree thirty feet high, without a limb, and pulled him out 
of his hole. I shouldn’t relate such small matters, only 
to show what lengths a hungry man will go to, to get 
something to eat. I soon killed two other squirrels, and 
fired at a large hawk. At this a large gang of turkeys 
rose from the cane brake, and flew across the creek to 
where my friend was, who had just before crossed it. 
He soon fired on a large gobler, and I heard it fall. By 
this time, my gun was loaded again, and I saw one sit¬ 
ting on my side of the creek, which had flew over when 
he fired; so I blazed away, and down I brought him. I 
gathered him up, and a fine turkey he was. I now 
began to think we had struck a breeze of luck, and almost 
forgot our past sufferings, in the prospect of once more 
having something to eat. I raised the shout, and my 
comrade came to me, and we went on to our camp with 
the game we had killed. While we were gone, two of 
our mess had been out, and each of them had found a 
bee tree. We turned into cooking some of our game, 
but we had neither salt nor bread. Just at this moment, 
on looking down the creek, we saw our men, who had 
gone on before us for provisions, coming to us. They 
came up, and measured out to each man a cupfull of 


BEE TREES. 


99 


flour. With this, we thickened our soup, when oui 
turkey was cooked, and our friends took dinner with us, 
and then went on. 

We now took our tomahawks, and went out and cut 
cur bee trees, out of which we got a fine chance of honey; 
though we had been starving so long that we feared to 
eat much at a time, till, like the Irish by hanging, wo 
got used to it again. We rested that night without mov¬ 
ing our camp; and the next morning myself and Yanzant 
again turned out to hunt. We had not gone far, before 
I wounded a fine buck very badly; and while pursuing 
him, I was walking on a large tree that had fallen down, 
when from the top of it a large bear broke out and ran 
off. I had no dogs, and I was sorry enough for it; for 
of all the hunting I ever did, I have always delighted 
most in bear hunting. Soon after this, I killed a large 
buck; and we had just gotten him to camp, when our 
poor starved army came up. They told us, that to 
lessen their sufferings as much as possible, Captain Wil¬ 
liam Russell had had his horse led up to be shot for them 
to eat, just at the moment that they saw our men re¬ 
turning, who had carried on the flour. 

We were now about fourteen miles from Fort Decatur, 
and we gave away all our meat and honey, and went on 
with the rest of the army. When we got there, they 
could give us only one ration of meat, but not a mouth¬ 
ful of bread. I immediately got a canoe, and taking 
my gun, crossed over the river, and went to the Big 
Warriors’ town. I had a large hat, and I offered an 
Indian a silver dollar for my hat full of corn. He told 
me that his corn was all “ shuestea,” which in English 

L Of C, 


100 


CROCKETT BUYS CORN. 


means, it was all gone. But he showed me wh*ie an 
Indian lived, who, he said, had corn. I went to him and 
made the same offer. He could talk a little broken 
English, and said to me, “You got any powder? You 
got bullet?” I told him I had. He then said, “Me 
swap my corn for powder and bullet.” I took out about 
ten bullets, and showed him; and he proposed to give 
me a hat full of corn for them. I took him up mighty 
quick. I then offered to give him ten charges of powder 
for another hat full of corn. To this he agreed very 
willingly. So I took off my hunting shirt, and tied up 
my corn; and though it had cost me very little of my 
powder and lead, yet I wouldn’t have taken fifty silver 
dollars for it. I returned to the camp, and the next 
morning we started for the Hickory Ground, which was 
thirty miles off. It was here that General Jackson met 
the Indians, and made peace with the body of the nation. 

We got nothing to eat at this place, and we had yet 
to go forty-nine miles, over a rough and wilderness coun¬ 
try, to Fort Williams. Parched corn, and but little even 
of that, was our daily subsistence. When we reached 
Fort Williams, we got one ration of pork, and one of 
flour, which was our only hope until we could reach Fort 
Strother. 

The horses were now giving out, and I remember to 
have seen thirteen good horses left in one day, the sad¬ 
dles and bridles being thrown away. It was thirty-nine 
miles to Fort Strother, and we had to pass directly by 
Fort Talladega, where we first had the big Indian battle 
with the eleven hundred painted warriors. We went 
through the old battle ground, and it looked like a great 


CROCKETT RETURNS HOME. 


10.1 


gourd patch; the skulls of the Indians who were killed, 
etill lay scattered all about, and many of their frames were 
still perfect, as the bones had not separated. But about 
five miles before we got to this battle ground, I struck a 
trail, which I followed until it led me to one of the^r 
towns. Here I swapp’d some more of my powder and 
bullets for a little corn. 

I pursued on, by myself, till some time after night, 
when I came up to the rest of the army. That night 
my company and myself did pretty well, as I divided out 
my corn among them. The next morning we met tho 
East Tennessee troops, who were on the road to Mobile, 
and my youngest brother was with them. They had 
plenty of corn and provisions, and they gave me what I 
wanted for myself and my horse. I remained with them 
that night, though my company went across the Coosa 
river to the fort, where they also had the good fortune 
to find plenty of provisions. Next morning, I took leave 
of my brother and all my old neighbours, for there were 
a good many of them with him, and crossed over to my 
men at the fort. Here I had enough to go on, and after 
remaining a few days, cut out for home. Nothing more, 
worthy of the reader’s attention, transpired till I was 
safely landed at home once more with my wife and child¬ 
ren. I found them all well and doing well; and though 
I was only a rough sort of backwoodsman, they seemed 
mighty glad to see me, however little the quality folks 
might suppose it. Eor I do reckon we love as hard m 
the backwood country, as any people in the whole creation. 

.But I had been home only a few days, when we re¬ 
ceived orders to start again, and go on to the Black 


102 


END OF THE WAR. 


Warrior and Cahawba rivers, to see if there was no In¬ 
dians there. I know’d well enough there was none, and 
I wasn’t willing to trust my craw any more where there 
was neither any fighting to do, nor anything to go on; 
and so I agreed to give a young man, who wanted to go, 
the balance of my wages if he would serve out my time, 
which was about a month. He did so, and when they 
returned, sure enough they hadn’t seen an Indian, anv 
more than if they had been all the time chopping wood 
in my clearing. This closed my career as a w T arrior, and 
I am glad of it, for I like life now a heap better than 1 
did then ; and I am glad all over that I lived to see these 
times, which I should not have done if I had kept fooling 
along in war, and got used up at it. When I say L am 
glad, I just mean I am glad that I am alive, for there 
is a confounded heap of things I an’t glad.of at all. I 
an’t glad, for example, that the “government” moved 
the deposites, and if my military glory should take such 
a turn as to make me president after the general’s time, 
I’ll move them back; yes, I, the “government” will 
“ take the responsibility,” and move them back again. 
If I don’t, I wish I may be shot. 

But I am glad that I am now through war matters, 
and I reckon the reader is too, for they have no fun in 
them at all; and less, if he had had to pass through them 
first, and then write them afterwards. But for the dull¬ 
ness of their narrative, I must try to make amends by 
relating some of the curious things that happened to me 
in private life, and when forced to become a public man, 
as I shall have to be again, if ever I consent to take tha 
presidential chair. 


CHAPTER IX. 


Death of Mrs. Crockett—Ilis family—Crockett courts a soldier*! 
widow—Marries again—New family—Emigrates—Perilous jour¬ 
ney—Sickness—Returns home—Second sickness—Crockett settles 
on Shoal Creek—Regulators—Crockett a magistrate—Amusing 
account of his proceedings—Learning how to make out written 
warrants, and keep a docket—His success as a magistrate. 

I continued at home now, working my farm for two 
years, as the war finally closed soon after I quit the ser¬ 
vice. The battle at New Orleans had already been 
fought, and treaties were made with the Indians, which 
put a stop to their hostilities. 

But in this time, I met with the hardest trial which 
ever falls to the lot of man. Death, that cruel levelcr 
of all distinctions,—to whom the prayers and tears of 
husbands, and of even helpless infancy, are addressed in 
vain,—entered my humble cottage, and tore from my 
children an affectionate good mother, and from me a ten¬ 
der and loving wife. 

It is a scene long gone by, and one which it would be 
supposed I had almost forgotten; yet when I turn my 
memory back on it, it seems as but the work of yester¬ 
day. It was the doing of the Almighty, whose ways are 
always right, though we sometimes think they fall heavily 
on us; and as painful as is even yet the remembrance of 

Ler sufferings, and the loss sustained by my little child- 

( 103 ) 


104 


DEATH OF MRS. CROCKETT. 


ren and myself, yet I have no wish to lift up the voice 
of complaint. I was left with three children; the two 
eldest were sons, the youngest a daughter, and, at that 
time, a mere infant. It appeared to me, at that moment, 
that my situation was the worst in the world. I couldn’t 
bear the thought of scattering my children, and so I got 
my youngest brother, who was also married, and his 
family to live with me. They took as good care of my 
children as they well could, but yet it wasn’t all like the 
care of a mother. And though their company was to 
me in every respect like that of a brother and sister, yet 
it fell far short of being like that of a wife. So I came 
to the conclusion it wouldn’t do, but that I must have 
another wife. 

There lived in the neighborhood, a widow lady whose 
husband had been killed in the war. She had two child¬ 
ren, a son and daughter, and both quite small, like my 
own. I began to think, that as we were both in the 
same situation, it might be that we could do something 
for each other: and therefore began to hint a little around 
the matter, as we were once in a while together. She 
was a good industrious woman, and owned a snug little 
farm, and lived quite comfortable. I soon began to pay 
my respects to her in real good earnest; but I was as 
sly about it as a fox when he is going to rob a hen-roost. 
I found that my company wasn’t at all disagreeable to 
ber: and I thought I could treat her children with so 
much friendship as to make her a good stepmother to 
mine, and in this I wasn’t mistaken, as we soon bargained, 
and got married, and then w r ent ahead. In a great deal 
of peace we raised our first crop of children, and they 


*TEW FAMILY. 


103 


aro all married and doing well. But we had a second 
crop together; and I shall notice them as I go along, as 
my wife and myself both had a hand in them, and they 
therefore belong to the history of my second marriage. 

The next fall after this marriage, three of my neigh¬ 
bors and myself determined to explore a new country. 
Theii names were Robinson, Frazier, and Rich. Wo 
set out for the Creek country, crossing the Tennessee 
river; and after having made a day’s travel, we stopp’d 
at the house of one of my old acquaintances, who had 
settled there after the war. Resting here a day, Frazier 
turned out to hunt, being a great hunter; but he got 
badly bit by a very poisonous snake, and so we left him 
and went on. We passed through a large rich valley, 
called Jones’s Valley, where several other families had 
settled, and continued our course till we came near to 
the place where Tuscaloosa now stands. Here we 
camped, as there were no inhabitants, and hobbled out 
our horses for the night. About two hours before day, 
we heard the bells on our horses going back the w r ay we 
had come, as they had started to leave us. As soon as 
it was daylight, I started in pursuit of them on foot, 
and carrying my rifle, which was a very heavy one. I 
went ahead the whole day, wading creeks and swamps, 
and climbing mountains; but I couldn’t overtake our 
horses, though I could hear of them at every house they 
passed. I at last found I couldn’t catch up with them, 
and so I gave up the hunt, and turned back to the last 
house I had passed, and staid there till morning. From 
the best calculation we could make, I had walked oyer 
fifty miles that day; and the next morning I was so 


106 


PERILOUS JOURNEY. 


sore, and fatigued, that I felt like I couldn’t walk any 
more. But I was anxious to get hack 'to where I had 
left my company, and so I started and went on, but 
mighty slowly, till after the middle of the day. I now 
began to feel nighty sick, and had a dreadful headache. 
My rifle was so heavy, and I felt so weak, that I lay 
down by the side of the trace, in a perfect wilderness 
too, to see if I wouldn’t get better. In a short time 
some Indians came along. They had some ripe melons, 
and wanted me to eat some, but I was so sick I couldn’t. 
They then signed to me, that I would die, and be buried; 
a thing I was confoundedly afraid of myself. But I 
asked them how near it was to any house ? By their 
signs, again, they made me understand it was a mile 
and a half. I got up to go; but w T hen I rose, I reeled 
about like a cow with the blind staggers, or a fellow who 
had taken too many “ horns.” One of the Indians pro¬ 
posed to go with me, and carry my gun. I gave him 
half a dollar, and accepted his offer. We got to the 
house, by which time I was pretty far gone, but was 
kindly received, and got on to a bed. The woman did 
all she could for me with her warm teas, but I still con¬ 
tinued bad enough, with a high fever, and generally out 
of my senses. The next day two of my neighbors were 
passing the road, and heard of my situation, and came 
to where I was. They were going nearly the route I 
had intended to go, to look at the country; and so they 
took me first on one of their horses, and then on the 
other, till they got me hack to where I had left my com¬ 
pany. I expected I would get better, and be able to go 
on with them, but, instead of this, I got worse and 


SICKNESS. 


107 


worse; and when we got there, I wasn’t able to sit up at 
all. I thought now the jig was mighty nigh up with 
me, but I determined to keep a stiff upper lip. They 
carried me to a house, and each of my comrades bought 
him a horse, and they all set out together, leaving me 
behind. I knew but little that was going on for about 
two weeks; but the family treated me with every pos¬ 
sible kindness in their power, and I shall always feel 
thankful to them. The man’s name was Jesse Jones. 
At the end of two weeks I began to mend without the 
help of a doctor, or of any doctor’s means. In this 
time, however, as they told me, I was speechless for five 
days, and they had no thought that I would ever speak 
again,—in Congress or anywhere else. And so the 
woman, who had a bottle of Bateman’s drops, thought 
if they killed me, I would only die any how, and so she 
would try it wfith me. She gave me the whole bottle, 
which throwed me into a sweat that continued on me 
all night; when at last I seemed to wake up, and spoke, 
and asked her for a drink of water. This almost alarmed 
her, for she was looking every minute for me to die. 
She gave me the water, and, from that time, I began 
slowly to mend, and so kept on till I was able at last 
to walk about a little. I mi^ht easily have been mis¬ 
taken for one of the Kitchen Cabinet, I looked so much 
like a ghost. I have been particular in giving a history 
of this sickness, not because I believe it will interest 
any body much now, nor, indeed, do I certainly know 
that it ever will. But if I should be forced to take the 
“white house,” then it will be a good history; and 
every one will look on it as important. And I can’t, 


108 


RETURN HOME. 


for my life, help laughing now, to think, that when all 
my folks get around me, wanting good fat offices, how 
so many of them will say, “ What a good thing it was 
that that kind woman had a bottle of drops that saved 
President Crockett’s life,—the second greatest and 
best”!!!!! Good, says I, my noble fellow ! You take 
the post office ; or the navy ; or the war office ; or, may 
be, the treasury. But if I give him the treasury, there’s 
no devil if I don’t make him agree first to fetch back 
them deposites. And if it’s even the post office, I’ll 
make him promise to keep his money ’counts without 
any figuring, as that throws the whole concern heels 
over head in debt, in little or no time. 

But when I got so I could travel a little, I got a 
wagoner who was passing along to haul me to where he 
lived, which was about twenty miles from my house. I 
still mended as we went along, and when we got to his 
stopping place, I hired one of his horses, and went on 
home. I was so pale, and so much reduced, that my 
face looked like it had been half soled with brown paper. 

When I got there, it was to the utter astonishment 
of my wife; for she supposed I was dead. My neigh¬ 
bors who had started with me had returned and took my 
horse home, which they had found with theirs ; and they 
reported that they had seen men who had helped to bury 
me; and who saw me draw my last breath. I kn >w’d 
this was a whopper of a lie, as soon as I heard it. My 
wife had hired a man, and sent him out to see what had 
become of my money and other things ; but I had missed 
the man as I went in, and he didn’t return until somo 
time after I got home, as he went all the way to where 



SETTLES ON SHOAL CREEK. 


1U9 


I lay sick, before he heard that I was still in the land 
of the living and a-kicking. 

The place on which I lived was sickly, and I was de¬ 
termined to leave it. I therefore set out the next fall to 
look at the country which had been purchased of the 
Chickesaw tribe of Indians. I went on to a place called 
{Shoal Creek, about eighty miles from where I lived, and 
here again I got sick. I took the ague and fever, which 
I supposed was brought on by my camping out. I re¬ 
mained here for some time, as I was unable to go farther; 
and in that time I became so well pleased with the 
country about there, that I resolved to settle in it. It 
was just only a little distance in the purchase, and no 
order had been established there; but I thought I could 
get along without order as well as anybody else. And 
so I moved and settled myself down on the head of Shoal 
Creek. We remained here some two or three years, 
without any law at all; and so many bad characters 
began to flock in upon us, that we found it necessary to 
set up a sort of temporary government of our own. I 
don’t mean that we made any president, and called him 
the “ government,” but we met and made what we called 
a corporation; and I reckon we called it wrong, for it 
wasn’t a bank, and hadn’t any deposites; and now they 
call the bank a corporation. But be this as it may, we 
lived in the backwoods, and didn’t profess to know much, 
and no doubt used many wrong words. But we met, and 
appointed magistrates and constables to keep order. Wo 
didn’t fix any laws for them, though; for we supposed l hey 
would know law enough, whoever they might be; and so 
we left it to themselves to fix the laws. 


no 


CROCKETT A MAGISTRATE. 


I was appointed one of the magistrates; and when a 
man owed a debt, and wouldn’t pay it, I and my consta¬ 
ble ordered our warrant, and then he would take the 
man, and bring him before me for trial. I would give 
judgment against him, and then an order for an execu¬ 
tion would easily scare the debt out of him. If any one 
was charged with marking his neighbor’s hogs, or with 
stealing anything,—which happened pretty often in those 
days,—I would have him taken, and if there were tole¬ 
rable grounds for the charge, I would have him well 
whipp’d and cleared. We kept this up till our Legislature 
added us to the white settlements in Giles county, and 
appointed magistrates by law, to organize matters in the 
parts where I lived. They appointed nearly every man 
a magistrate who had belonged to our corporation. I 
was then, of course, made a squire, according to law; 
though now the honor rested more heavily on me than 
before. For, at first, whenever I told my constable, says 
I—“ Catch that fellow and bring him up for trial,”— 
away he went, and the fellow must come, dead or alive; 
for we considered this a good warrant, though it was 
only in verbal writing. But after I was appointed by 
the assembly, they told me my warrants must be in real 
writing, and signed; and that I must keep a book, and 
write my proceedings in it. This was a hard business on 
me, for I could just barely write my own name; but to 
do this, and write the warrants too, was at least a huck¬ 
leberry over my persimmon. I had a pretty well in¬ 
formed constable, however, and he aided me very much 
in this business. Indeed, I had so much confidence in 
him, that I told him, when we should happen to bo out 


SUCCESS AS A MAGISTRATE. 


Ill 


anywhere, and see that a warrant was necessary, and 
would have a good effect, he needn’t take the trouble to 
come all the way to me to get one, but he could just fill 
out one; and then on the trial I could correct the whole 
business if he had committed any error. In this way I 
got on pretty well, till by care and attention I improved 
my handwriting in such a manner as to be able to pie- 
pare my warrants, and keep my record book without 
much difficulty. My judgments were never appealed 
from, and if they had been, they would have stuck like 
wax, as I gave my decisions on the principles of common 
justice and honesty between man and man, and relied 
on natural born sense, and not on law learning to guide 
me; for I had never read a page in a law book in all my 
life. 


CHAPTER X. 


Captain Matthew’s intrigue—Crockett a candidate Tor military office 
—Matthew’s artful dodge—Detected by Crockett, who defeats 
him, and is elected Colonel—Crockett a candidate for the Legisla¬ 
ture—On the stump—Electioneering—Hunting party—Speech¬ 
making tough work—Tells anecdotes—Gains his election—Colonel 
Polk—The judiciary—Loss .of property—Failure—Gives up all t.o 
his creditors. 

About the time we were getting under good headway 
in our new government, a Captain Matthews came to me 
ind told me he was a candidate for the office of colonel 
of a regiment, and that I must run for first major in the 
same regiment. I objected to this, telling him that I 
thought I had done my share of fighting, and that I 
wanted nothing to do with military appointments. 

He still insisted, until at last I agreed, and of course 
had every reason to calculate on his support in my elec¬ 
tion. He was an early settler in that country, and made 
rather more corn than the rest of us; and knowing it 
would afford him a good opportunity to electioneer a 
little, he made a great corn husking, and a great frolic, 
and gave a general treat, asking everybody over the 
whole country. Myself and my family were, of course, 
invited. When I got there, I found a very large collec¬ 
tion of people, and some friend of mine soon informed 
me that the captain’s son was going to offer against me 
( 112 ) 


CROCKETT ELECTED COLONEL. 


118 


for the oflue of major, which he had soemcd so anxious 
for me to get. I cared nothing about the office, but it 
put my dander up high enough to see, that after he had 
pressed me so hard to offer, he was countenancing, if not 
encouraging, a secret plan to beat me.. 

I took the old gentleman out, and asked him about it. 
lie told me it was true his son was going to run as a 
candidate, and that he hated worse to run against me 
than any man in the county. I told him his son need 
give himself no uneasiness about that; that I shouldn’t 
run against him for major, but against his daddy for 
colonel. He took me by the hand, and we went into the 
company. He then made a speech and informed the 
people that I was his opponent. I mounted up for a 
speech too. I told the people the cause of my opposing 
him, remarking that as I had the whole family to run 
against any way, I was determined to levy on the head 
of the mess. When the time for election came, his son 
was opposed by another man for major; and he and his 
daddy were both badly beaten. I just now began to take 
a rise, as in a little time I was asked to offer for the 
.Legislature in the counties of Lawrence and Heckman. 

I offered my name in the month of February, an l 
started about the first of March with a drove of horses 
to the lower part of the State of North Carolina. This 
was in the year 1821, and I was gone upwards of three 
months. I returned, and set out electioneering, which 
was a bran-fire new business to me. It now became 
necessary that I should tell the people something about 
the government, and an eternal sight of other things that 
I knowed nothing more about than I did about Latin. 

8 


114 


CROCKETT ELECTIONEERS. 


and law, and such things as that. I have said before 
chat in those days none of us called General Jackson tho 
government, nor did he seem in as fair a way to become 
so as I do now ; but I knowed so little about it, that if 
any one had told me he was “the government,” I should 
have believed it, for I had never read even a newspaper 
in my life, or anything else, on the subject. But over 
all my difficulties, it seems to me I was born for luck, 
though it would be hard for any one to guess what sort. 
I will, however, explain that hereafter. 

I went first into Heckman county, to see what I could 
do among the people as a candidate. Here they told me 
that they wanted to move their town nearer to the centre 
of the county, and I must come out in favor of it. 
There’s no devil if I knowed what this meant, or how 
the town was to be moved ; and so I kept dark, going 
on the identical same plan that I now find is called “ non¬ 
committal About this time there was a great squirrel 
hunt on Duck river, which was among my people. They 
were to hunt two days; then to meet and count the 
scalps, and have a big barbecue, and what might be 
called a tip-top country frolic. The dinner, and a 
general treat, was all to be paid for by the party having 
taken the fewest scalps. I joined one side, taking the 
place of one of the hunters, and got a gun ready for the 
hunt. I killed a great many squirrels, and when we 
counted scalps, my party was victorious. 

The company had every thing to eat and drink tlia^ 
could be furnished in so new a country, and much fun 
and good humor prevailed. But before the regular froiic 
commenced, I mean the dancing, I was called on to make 


TOUGH WORK. 


118 

ft speech as a candidate; which was a business I w&fl 
as ignorant of as an outlandish negro. 

A public document I had never seen, nor did I know 
there were such things; and how to begin I couldn’t tell. 
I raac(e many apologies, and tried to get off, for I know’d 
J had a man to run against who could speak prime, and 
I know’d, too, that I wasn’t able to shuffle and cut with 
him. He was there, and knowing my ignorance as well 
as I did myself, he also urged me to make a speech. 
The truth is, he thought my being a candidate was a 
mere matter of sport; and didn’t think for a moment, 
that he was in any danger from an ignorant backwoods 
bear hunter. But I found I couldn’t get off, and so I de¬ 
termined just to go ahead, and leave it to chance what I 
should say. I got up and told the people I reckoned 
they know’d what I had come for, but if not, I could 
tell them. I had come for their votes, and if they didn’t 
watch mighty close I’d get them too. But the worst of 
all was, that I could not tell them anything abo it govern¬ 
ment. I tried to speak about something, and I cared 
very little what, until I choaked up as bad as if my 
mouth had been jamm’d and cramm’d chock full of dry 
mush. There the people stood, listening all the while, 
with their eyes, mouths, and ears all open, to catch every 
word I would speak. 

At last I told them I was like a fellow I had heard of 
not long before. He was beating on the head of an 
empty barrel near the road-side, when a traveler, who 
was passing along, asked him what he was doing that 
for ? The fellow replied that there was some cider in 
that barrel a few days before, and he was trying to see 


116 


TELLS STORIES. 


if there was any then, but if there was he couldn’t get 
at it. I told them that there had been a little bit of a 
speech in me a while ago, but I believed I couldn’t get 
it out. They all roared out in a mighty laugh, and I 
told some other anecdotes, equally amusing to them, and 
believing I had them in a first-rate way, I quit and got 
down, thanking the people for their attention. But I 
took care to remark that I was as dry as a powder-horn, 
and that I thought it was time for us all to wet our 
whistles a little: and so I put off to the liquor stand, 
and was followed by the greater part of the crowd. 

I felt certain this was necessary, for I kncwed my 
competitor could talk government matters to them as 
easy as he pleased. He had, however, mighty few left 
to hear him, as I continued with the crowd, now and 
then taking a horn, and telling good-humored stories, 
till he was done speaking. I found I was good for the 
votes at the hunt, and when we broke up I went on to 
the town of Vernon, which was the same they wanted 
me to move. Here they pressed me again on the sub¬ 
ject, and I found I could get either party by agreeing 
with them. But I told them I didn’t know whether it 
would be right or not, and so couldn’t promise either 
way. 

Their court commenced on the next Monday, as tho 
barbecue was on a Saturday, and the candidates for 
Governor and for Congress, as well as ray competitor 
and myself, all attended. 

The thought of having to make a speech made my 
knees feel mighty weak, and set my heart to fluttering 
almost as bad as my first love scrape with the Quaker’s 


COLONEL POLK. 


117 


niece. But as good luck would have it, these big can* 
didat3S spoke nearly all day, and when they quit, the 
people were worn out with fatigue, which afforded me a 
good apology for not discussing the government. But 
I listened mighty close to them, and was learning pretty 
fast about political matters. When they were all done, 
I got up and told some laughable story, and quit. 1 
found I was safe in those parts, and so I went home, 
and did not go back again till* after the election was 
over. But to cut this matter short, I was elected, dou¬ 
bling ray competitor, and nine votes over. 

A short time after this, I was in Pulaski, where I met 
with Colonel Polk, now a member of Congress from 
Tennessee.* He was at that time a member elected to 
the Legislature, as well as myself; and in a large com¬ 
pany he said to me, “ Well, colonel, I suppose we shall 
have a radical change of the judiciary at the next ses¬ 
sion of the Legislature.” “ Very likely, sir,” says I; 
and I put out quicker, for I was afraid some one would 
ask me what the judiciary was ; and if I knowed I wish 
I may be shot. I don’t indeed believe I had ever before 
heard that there was any such thing in all nature; but 
still I was not willing that the people there should know¬ 
how ignorant I was about it. 

When the time for meeting of the Legislature arrived, 
I went on, and before I had been there long, I could 
have told what the judiciary was, and what the govern¬ 
ment was too ; and many other things that I had known 
nothing about before. 


* Subsequently President of the United States. 



118 


FAILURE. 


About this time I met with a very severe misfortune, 
which I may be pardoned for naming, as it made a great 
change in my circumstances, and kept me back very 
much in the world. I had built an extensive grist mill, 
and powder mill, all connected together, and also a largo 
distillery. They had cost me upwards of three thou« 
sand dollars ; more than I was worth in the world. Tho 
first news that I heard after I got to the Legislature, 
was, that my mills were—not blown up sky high, as you 
would guess, by my powder establishment—but swept 
away all to smash by a large fresh, that came soon after 
I left home. I had, of course, to stop my distillery, as 
my grinding was broken up; and, indeed, I may say, 
that the misfortune just made a complete mash of me. 
I had some likely negroes, and a good stock of almost 
everything about me, and, best of all, I had an honest 
wife. She didn’t advise me, as is too fashionable, to 
smuggle up this, and that, and t’other, to go on at 
home ; but she told me, says she, “ Just pay up, as long 
as you have a bit’s worth in the world; and then every¬ 
body will be satisfied, and we will scuffle for more.” 
This was just such talk as I wanted to hear, for a man’s 
wife can hold him devilish uneasy, if she begins to scold 
and fret, and perplex him, at a time when he has a full 
lead for a railroad car on his mind already. 

And so, you see, I determined not to break full 
handed, but thought it better to keep a good conscience 
with an empty purse, than to get a bad opinion of my¬ 
self, with a full one. I therefore gave up all I had, and 
took a bran-fire new start. 


CHAPTER XI. 


Colonel Crockett emigrates again—Difficult journey—Visit to Mr. 
Owen3—Boating—Hunting—Pia^ng-—TheFall’s hunt—Perilous 
winter journey to get a cask of powder—Success. 

Having returned from the Legislature, I determined 
to make another move, and so I took my eldest son with 
me, and a young man by the name of Abram Henry, 
and cut out for’ the Obion. I selected a spot when I 
got there, where I determined to settle; and the nearest 
house to it was seven miles, the next nearest was fifteen, 
and so on to twenty. It was a complete wilderness, and 
full of Indians who were hunting. Game was plenty 
of almost every kind, which suited me exactly, as I was 
always fond of hunting. The house which was nearest 
me, and which, as I have already stated, was seven miles 
off, and on the different side of the Obion river, belonged 
to a man by the name of Owens; and I started to gc 
there. I had taken one horse along, to pack our provi¬ 
sion, and when I got to the water I hobbled him out to 
graze, until I got back; as there was no boat to cross 
the river in, and it was so high that it had overflowed all 
the bottoms and low country near it. 

We now took water like so many beavers, notwitk 
standing it was mighty cold, and waded on. The water 
Would sometimes be up to our necks, and at others not 

( 119 ) 


120 


DIFFICULT JOURNEY. 


bo deop; but I went, of course, before, and carried a 
pole, with which I would feel along before me, to see 
how deep it was, and to guard against falling into a 
slough, as there was many in our way. When I would 
come to one, I would take out my tomahawk and cut a 
small tree across it, and then go ahead again. Fre¬ 
quently my little son would have to swim, even where 
myself and the young man could wade; but we worked 
on till at last we got to the channel of the river, which 
made it about half a mile we had waded from where we 
took water. I saw a large tree that had fallen into the 
river from the other side, but it did not reach across. 
One stood on the same bank wdiere we were, that I 
thought I could fall, so as to reach the other; and so at 
it we went wdth my tomahawk, cutting away till we got 
it down; and, as good luck would have it, it fell right, 
and made us a way that we could pass. 

When we got over this, it was still a sea of water as 
far as our eyes could reach. We took into it again, and 
went ahead, for about a mile, hardly ever seeing a single 
spot of land, and sometimes very deep. At last we 
came in sight of land, which was a very pleasing thing; 
and when we got out, we went but a little way, before 
we came in sight of the house, which was more pleasing 
than ever; for we were wet all over, and mighty cold. 
I felt mighty sorry when I would look at my little boy, 
and see him shaking like he had the worst sort of an 
ague, for there was no time for fever then. As we got 
near to the house, we saw Mr. Owens and several men 
that were with him, just starting away. They saw us, 
and stopp’d, but looked much astonished until we got 


VISIT TO MR. OWENS. 


121 


®F to them, and I made myself known. The rnen who 
were with him -were the owners of a boat which was the 
first that ever went that far up the Obion river; and 
some hands he had hired to carry it about a hundred 
miles still further up, by water, though it was only about 
thirty by land, as the river is very crooked. 

They all turned back to the house with me, where I 
found Mrs. Owens, a fine, friendly old woman ; and her 
kindness to my little boy did me ten times as much good 
as anything she could have done for me, if she had tried 
her best. The old gentleman set out his bottle to us, 
and I concluded that if a horn wasn’t good then, there 
was no use for its invention. So I swigg’d off about a 
half a pint, and the young man was by no means bashful 
in such a case ; he took a strong pull at it too. I then 
gave my boy some, and in a little time we felt pretty 
well. We dried ourselves by the fire, and were asked to 
go on board the boat that evening. I agreed to do so, 
but left my son with the old lady, and myself and the 
young man went to the boat with Mr. Owens and the 
others. The boat was loaded with whiskey, flour, sugar, 
coffee, salt, castings, and other articles suitable for the 
country; and they were to receive five hundred dollars 
to land the load at McLemore’s Bluff, beside the profit 
they could make on their load. This was merely to show 
that boats could get up to that point. We staid all night 
with them, and had a high night of it, as I took steam 
enough to drive out all the cold that was m me, and 
about three times as much more. In the morning, we 
concluded to go on with the boat to where a great harri- 
taiw had crossed the river, and blowed all the timber 


122 


BOATING. 


down into it. When we got there, we found the nver 
was falling fast, and concluded we couldn’t get through 
the timber without more rise; so we dropp’d down oppo¬ 
site Mr. Owens’ again where they determined to wait for 
more water. 

The next day it rained rip-roariously, and the river 
rose pretty considerable, but not enough yet. And so I 
got the boatsmen all to go out with me to where I was 
going to settle, and we slapped up a cabin in little or no 
time. I got from the boat four barrels of meal, and one 
of salt, and about ten gallons of whiskey. 

To pay for these, I agreed to go with the boat up the 
river to their landing place. I got also a large middling 
of bacon, and killed a fine deer, and left them for my 
young man and my little boy, who were to stay at my 
cabin till I got back, which I expected would be in six 
or seven days. We cut out and moved up to the hurri¬ 
cane, where we stopp’d for the night. In the morning, 
I started about daylight intending to kill a deer, as I had 
no thought they would get the boat through the timber 
that day. I had gone but a little way before I killed a 
fine buck, and started to go back to the boat; but on the 
way I came on the tracks of a large gang of elks, and so 
I took after them. I had followed them only a little 
distance when I saw them, and directly after I saw two 
large bucks. I shot one down, and the other wouldn’t 
leave him ; so I loaded my gun and shot him down too. 
I hung them up, and went ahead again after my elks. I 
pursued on till after the middle of the day before I saw 
them again; but they took the hint before I got in shoot¬ 
ing distance, and run off. I still pursued on till late in 


HUNTING. 


128 


the evening, when I found I was about four miles from 
where I had left the boat, and as hungry as a wolf, for 1 
ladn’t eaten a bite that day. 

I started down the edge of the river low grounds giv* 
ng out the pursuit of my elks, and hadn’t gone hardly 
any distance at all, before I saw two more bucks, very 
large fellows too. I took a blizzard at one of them and 
up he tumbled. The other ran off a few jumps and 
stopp’d ; and stood there till I loaded again, and fired at 
him. I knock’d his trotters from under him, and then 
I hung them both up. I pushed on again, and about sun¬ 
set I saw three other bucks. I down’d with one of them 
and the other two ran off. I hung this one op also, hav¬ 
ing now killed six that day. I then pushed on till I got 
to the harricane, and at the lower edge of it, about where 
I expected the boat was. Here I hollered as hard as I 
could roar, but could get no answer. I fired off my gun, 
and the men on the boat fired one too; but quite con¬ 
trary to my expectation, they had got through the tim¬ 
ber, and were about two miles above me. It was now 
dark, and I had to crawl through the fallen timber the 
best way I could; and if the reader don’t know it was 
bad enough, I am sure I do. For the vines and briers 
had grown all through it, and so thick that a good fat 
coon couldn’t much more than get along. I got through 
at last, and went on near to where I had killed my last 
doer, and once more fired off my gun, which was again 
answered from the boat which was still a little above me. 
I moved on as fast as I could, but soon came to water; 
and not knowing how deep it was I halted, and hollered 
till they came to me with a skiff. I now got to the boat, 


124 


PLANTING. 


without further difficulty ; but the briers had worked on 
me at such a rate that I felt like I wanted sewing up all 
over. I took a pretty stiff horn, which soon made me 
feel much better; but I was so tired that I could liardlv 
work my jaws to eat. 

In the morning, myself and a young man started and 
brought in the first buck I had killed, and after break¬ 
fast we went and brought in the last one. The boat 
then started, but we again went and got the two I had 
killed just as I turned down the river in the evening; 
and we then pushed on and overtook the boat, leaving 
the other two hanging in the woods, as we had now as 
much as we wanted. 

We got up the river very well, but quite slowly, and 
we landed on the eleventh day at the place the load was 
delivered at. They here gave me their skiff, and my¬ 
self and a young man by the name of Flavius Harris, 
who had determined to go and live with me, cut out down 
the river for my cabin, which we reached safely enough. 

We turned in, and cleared a field and planted our 
corn ; but it was so late in the spring we had no time to 
make rails, and therefore we put no fence around our 
field. There was no stock, however, nor anything else 
to disturb our corn except the wild varments , and the old 
serpent himself, w T ith a fence to help him, couldn’t keep 
them out. I made corn enough to do me, and during 
that spring I killed ten bears, and a great abundance of 
deer. But in all this time, we saw the face of no white 
person in that country, except Mr. Owens’ family and a 
very few passengers, who went out there looking at the 
country. Indians, though, were still plenty enouglu 


THE FALLS* HUNT. 


12b 


Having laid by my crap, I went borne, winch was a dis¬ 
tance of about a hundred and fifty miles, and when I got 
there I was met by an order to attend a call-session of 
our Legislature. I attended at, and served out my time, 
and then returned and took my family and what little 
plunder I had, and moved to where I had built my cabin, 
and made my crap. 

I gathered my corn, and then set out for my Fall’s 
hunt. This was in the last of October, 1822. I found 
bear very plenty, and, indeed, all sorts of game and wild 
varments, except buffalo. There was none of t :em. 
I hunted on till Christmas, having supplied my family 
very w T ell all along with wild meat, at which time my powder 
gave out; and I had none either to fire Christmas guns, 
which is very common in that country, or to hunt with 
I had a brother-in-law who had now moved out and set¬ 
tled about six miles west of me, on the opposite side of 
Rutherford’s fork of the Obion river, and he had brought 
me a keg of powder, but I had never gotten it home. 
There had just been another of Noah’s freshes, and the 
low grounds were flooded all over with water. I know’d 
the stream w r as at least a mile wide which I would have 
to cross, as the water was from hill to hill, and yet I de¬ 
termined to go on over in some way or other, so as to 
get my powder. I told this to my wife, and she imme¬ 
diately opposed it with all her might I still insisted, 
telling her we had no powder for Christmas, and, worse 
than all, we were out of meat. She said, we had as well 
starve as for me to freeze to death or to get drowned, 
and one or the other was certain if I attempted to go. 

But 1 didn’t believe the half of this; and so I took 


126 


PERILOUS WINTER JOURNEY. 


my woolen wrappers, and a pair of moccasins, and put 
them on, and tied up some dry clothes, and a pair of 
shoes and stockings, and started. But I didn’t before 
know how much anybody could suffer and not die. This, 
and some of my other experiments in water, learned me 
Bonuthing about it, and I therefore relate them. 

The snow was about four inches deep when I started; 
and when I got to the water, which was only about a 
quarter of a mile off, it looked like an ocean. I put in, 
and waded on till I come to the channel, where I crossed 
that on a high log. I then took w r ater again, having my 
gun and all my hunting tools along, and waded till I 
came to a deep slough, that was wider than the river 
itself. I had crossed it often on a log; but behold, when 
I got there, no log was to be seen. I knowed of an 
island in the slough, and a sapling stood on it close to 
the side of that log, which was now entirely under water. 
I knowed further, that the water was about eight or ten 
feet deep under the log, and I judged it to be about 
three feet deep over it. After studying a little what I 
should do, I determined to cut a forked sapling, which 
stood near me, so as to lodge it against the one that 
stood on the island, in which I succeeded very well. I 
then cut me a pole, and then crawled along on my sap¬ 
ling till I got to the one it was lodged against, which 
was about six feet above the water. I then felt about 
with my pole till I found the log, which was just about 
as deep under the water as I had judged. I then 
crawled back and got my gun, which I had left at the 
stump of the sapling I had cut, and again made my way 
M> the place of lodgment, and then climbed down the 


NARROW ESCAPE. 


127 


other sapling so as to get on the log. I then felt my 
Way along with my feet, in the water, about waist deep, but 
it was a mighty ticklish business. However, I got over, 
and by this time I had very little feeling in my feet anil 
legs, as I had been all the time in the water, except 
what time I w r as crossing the high log over the river, and 
climbing my lodged sapling. 

I went but a short distance before I came to another 
slough, over which there was a log, but it was floating on 
the water. I thought I could walk it, and so I mounted 
on it; but w T hen I had got about the middle of the deep 
water, somehow or somehow else, it turned over, and in 
I went up to my head. I waded out of this deep water, 
and w r ent ahead till I came to the highland, where I 
stopp’d to pull off my wet clothes, and put on the others, 
which I had held up with my gun, above the water, when 
I fell in. I got them on, but my flesh had no feeling in 
it, I was so cold. I tied up the wet ones, and hung 
them up in a bush. I now thought I would run, so as 
to warm myself a little, but I couldn’t raise a trot for 
some time; indeed, I couldn’t step more than half the 
length of my foot. After a while I got better, and went 
on five miles to the house of my brother-in-law, having 
not even smelt fire from the time I started. I got there 
late in the evening, and he was much astonished at see¬ 
ing me at such a time. I staid all night, and the next 
morning was most piercing cold, and so they persuaded 
me not to go home that day. I agreed, and turned out 
and killed him two deer; but the weather still got worse 
and colder, instead of better. I staid that night, and in 
the morning they still insisted I couldn’t get homo I 


128 COLONEL CROCKETT GETS THE POWDER. 

knowed tlie water would be frozen over, but not hard 
enough to bear me, and so I agreed to stay that day. 1 
went out hunting again, and pursued a big lie-bear all 
day, but didn’t kill him. The next morning was bitter 
cold, but I knowed my family was without meat, and I 
determined to get home to them, or die a-trying. 

I took my keg of powder, and all my hunting tools, 
and cut out. When I got to the water, it was a sheet 
of ice as far as I could see. I put on to it, but hadn’t 
got far before it broke through with me; and so I took 
out my tomahawk, and broke my way along before me 
for a considerable distance. At last I got to where the 
ice would bear me for a short distance, and I mounted 
on it, and went ahead; but it soon broke in again, and I 
had to wade on till I came to my floating log. I found 
it so tight this time, that I know’d it couldn’t give me 
another fall, as it was frozen in with the ice. I crossed 
over it without much difficulty, and worked along till I 
got to my lodged sapling, and my log under the water. 
The swiftness of the current prevented the water from 
freezing over it, and so I had to wade, just as I did when 
I crossed it before. When I got to my sapling, I left 
my gun, and climbed out with my powder keg first, and 
then went back and got my gun. By this time I was 
nearly frozen to death, but I saw all along before me, 
where the ice had been fresh broke, and I thought it 
must be a bear straggling about in the water. I, therefore, 
fresh primed my gun, and, cold as I was, I was deter¬ 
mined to make war on him, if we met. But I followed 
the trail till it led me home, and I then found it had been 


MIGHTY NEAR DEAD, 


129 


fitade by my young man that lived with me, who had 
been sent by my distressed wife to see, if he could, what 
had become of me, for they all believed that I was dead. 
When I got home, I wasn’t quite dead, but mighty nigh 
it; but had my powder, and that was what I went for.* 

* This incident of the difficult and perilous journey, for the purpose 
of obtaining a cask of powder, is one of the most remarkable and 
characteristic in the whole narrative. It exhibits that determined 
and resolute perseverance which raised Crockett from the humblest 
station to a position, which attracted the notice and the admiration 
of the whole country. How important the acquisition of this pow* 
der was, will appear in the sequel 


9 


CHAPTER XII. 


All hands turn out for a hunt—Colonel Crockett goes after Keai^— 
Kills two wild turkeys—Encounters a very big Bear—Three shota 
fired—Bear killed—Weighs 600 lbs—Difficulty in getting him 
home—Colonel Crockett supplies his family with provisions by 
hunting. 

That night there fell a heavy rain, and it turned to a 
sleet In the morning all hands turned out hunting. 
My young man, and a brother-in-law who had lately set¬ 
tled close by me, went down the river to hunt for tur¬ 
keys ; but I was for larger game. I told them I had 
dreamed the night before of having had a hard fight with 
a big black nigger, and I know’d it was a sign that 1 
was to have a battle with a bear; for in a bear country, 
I never know’d such a dream to fail. So I started to 
go up above the hurricane, determined to have a bear. 
I had two pretty good dogs, and an old hound, all of 
which I took along. I had gone about six miles up the 
river, and it was then about four miles across to the main 
Obion ; so I determined to strike across to that, as I had 
fDund nothing yet to kill. I got on to the river, and 
turned down it; hut the sleet was still getting worse and 
worse. The hushes were all bent down and locked to¬ 
gether with ice, so that it was almost impossible to get 

along. In a little time my dogs started a large gang of 
(130) 


COLONEL CROCKETT KILLS TURRETS. 13l 

old turkey gobblers, and I killed two of them cf the big¬ 
gest sort. I shouldered them up, and moved on, until I 
got through the hurricane, when I was so tired that I 
laid my gobblers down to rest, as they were confounded 
heavy, and I was mighty tired. While I was resting, 
my old hound went to a log, and smelt it awhile, and 
then raised his eyes towards the sky, and cried out. 
Away he went, and my other dogs with him, and I 
shouldered up my turkeys again, and followed on as hard 
as I could drive. They were soon out of sight, and in a 
very little time I heard them begin to bark. When I 
got to them they were barking up a tree, but there was 
no game there. I concluded it had been a turkey, and 
that it had flew away. 

When they saw me coming, away they went again; 
and, after a little time, began to bark as before. When 
I got near them, I found they were barking up the 
wrong tree again, as there was no game there. They 
served me in this way three or four times, until I was so 
infernal mad, that I determined, if I could get near 
enough, to shoot the old hound at least. With this in¬ 
tention, I pushed on the harder, till I came to the edge 
of an open prairie, and looking on before my dogs, I 
8aw in and about the biggest bear that ever was seen in 
America. He looked, at the distance he was from me, 
like a large black bull. My dogs were afraid to attack 
him, and that was the reason they had stopp’d so often, 
that I might overtake them. They were now almost up 
with him, and I took my gobblers from my back and hung 
them up in a sapling, and broke like a quarter horse 
after my bear, for the sight of him had put new springs 


132 


ENCOUNTER WITH A BIG BEAR. 


in me. I soon got near to them, but they were just 
getting into a roaring thicket, and so I couldn’t run 
through it, but had to pick my way along, and had close 
work even at that. 

In a little time I saw the bear climbing up a large 
black oak tree, and I crawled on until I got within about 
eighty yards of him. He was setting with his breast to 
me; and so I put fresh priming in my gun, and fired at 
him. At this he raised one of his paws and snorted 
loudly. I loaded again as quick as I could, and fired as 
near the same place in his breast as possible. At the 
crack of my gun here he came tumbling down; and the 
moment he touched the ground, I heard one of my best 
dogs cry out. I took my tomahawk in one hand, and 
my big butcher-knife in the other, and run up within 
four or five paces of him, at which he let my dog go, and 
fixed his eyes on me. I got back in all sorts of a hurry, 
for I knowed if he got hold of me, he would hug me 
altogether too close for comfort. I went to my gun and 
hastily loaded her again, and shot him the third time, 
which killed him good. 

I now began to think about getting him home, but I 
didn’t know how far it was. So I left him and started; 
and in order to find him again, I would blaze a sapling 
every little distance, which would show me the way back. 
I continued this until I got within about a mile of home, 
for there I knowed very well where I was, and that I 
could easily find my way back to my blazes. When I 
got home, I took my brother-in-law, and my young man, 
and four horses, and went back. We got there just 
before dark, and struck up a fire, and commenced butoh- 


Crockett’s encounter with a bear 



















































































































































































I 











BEAR KILLED. 


133 


ering my bear. It was some time in tbe night before 
we finished it; and I can assert, on my honor, that I 
believe he would have weighed six hundred pounds. It 
was the second largest I ever saw. I killed one, a few 
years after, that weighed six hundred and seventeen 
pounds. I now felt fully compensated for my sufferings 
in going after my powder; and well satisfied that a dog 
might sometimes be doing a good business, even when he 
seemed to be barking up the wrong tree. We got our 
meat home, and I had the pleasure to know that we now 
had plenty, and that of the best; and I continued through 
the winter to supply my family abundantly with bear- 
meat and venison from the woods.* 

* The bear appears to have been the Colonel’s favorite game. 
Indeed, with the exception of the deer and the wild tu»*Vey, it seems 
there was no other large game to be found in that part of Tennessee 
where he was settled. Buffaloes were only to be found farther to the 
west, and pan there were very rare. 


CHAPTER XIII. 


Colonel Crockett sells his peltry—Meets influential politicians at 
Jackson—Is invited to become a candidate for the Legislature— 
Declii>es—Is advertised for the office without his consent—Deter 
mines to run—Meets his opponent—His amusing and character* 
istic description of his manner of electioneering—Two other can¬ 
didates proposed—Colonel Crockett is elected-—Votes against 
General Jackson for Senator—Colonel Crockett proposed as a 
candidate for Congress—He is defeated—Proposed again for the 
next Congress. 

I had on hand a great many skins, and so, in the 
month of February, I packed a horse with them, and 
taking my eldest son along with me, cut out for a little 
town called Jackson, situated about forty miles off. We 
got there well enough, and I sold my skins, and bought 
me some coffee, and sugar, powder, lead, and salt. I 
packed them all up in readiness for a start, which I in¬ 
tended to make early the next morning. Morning came, 
but I concluded, before I started, I would go and take a 
horn with some of my old fellow-soldiers that I had met 
with at Jackson. 

I did so; and while we were engaged in this, I met 
with three candidates for the Legislature. A Doctor 
Butler, who was, by marriage, a nephew to General 
Jackson, a Major Lynn, and a Mr. McEver, all first-rate 
men. We all took a horn together, and some person 

(134) 


ELECTIONEERING. 


185 


present said to me, “ Crockett, you must offer for the 
Legislature.” I told him 1 lived at least forty miles 
from any white settlement; and had no thought of be¬ 
coming a candidate at that time. So we all parted, and 
I and my little boy went on home. 

It was about a week or two after this, that a man came 
to my house, and told me I was a candidate. I told 
him not so. But he took out a newspaper from his 
pocket, and showed me where I was announced. I said 
to my wife that this was all a burlesque on me, but I 
w^as determined to make it cost the man who had put it 
there at least the value of the printing, and of the fun 
he wanted at my expense. So I hired a young man to 
work in my place on my farm, and turned out myself 
electioneering. I hadn’t been out long, before I found 
the people began to talk very much about the bear hunter, 
the man from the cane; and the three gentlemen, who I 
have already named, soon found it necessary to enter 
into an agreement to have a sort of caucus at their 
March court, to determine which of them was the 
strongest, and the other two was to withdraw and support 
him. As the court came on, each one of them spread 
himself, to secure the nomination; but it fell on Dr. 
Butler, and the rest backed out. The doctor W'as a 
clever fellow, and I have often said he was the most 
talented man I ever run against for any office. His being 
related to General Jackson also helped him on very 
much; but I was in for it, and I was determined to push 
ahea d and go through, or stick. Their meeting was held 
in Madison county, which was the strongest in the repre¬ 
sentative district, which was composed of eleven countie*. 


136 


ELECTIONEERING. 


and they seemed bent on having the member from 
there. 

At this time Colonel Alexander was a candidate for 
Congress, and attending one of his public meetings one 
day, I walked to where he was treating the people, and 
he gave me an introduction to several of his acquaint¬ 
ances, and informed them that I was out electioneering. 
In a little time my competitor, Doctor Butler, came 
along; he passed by without noticing me, and I supposed, 
he did not recognize me. But I hailed him, as I was for 
all sorts of fun; and when he turned to me, I said to 
him, “ Well, doctor, I suppose they have weighed you 
out to me; but I should like to know why they fixed 
your election for March instead of August ? This is,** 
said I, “ a branfire new way of doing business, if a caucus 
is to make a representative for the people!” He now 
discovered who I was, and cried out, “ D—n it, Crockett, 
is that you ?” “ Be sure it is,” said I, “but I don’t 

want it understood that I have come electioneering. I 
have just crept out of the cane, to see what discoveries I 
could make among the white folks.” I told him that 
when I set out electioneering, I would go prepared to 
put every man on as good a footing when I left him as 
I found him on. I would therefore have me a large 
buckskin hunting-shirt made, with a couple of pockets 
holding about a peck each; and that in one I would carry 
a great big twist of tobacco, and in the other my bottle 
of liquor ; for I knowed when I met a man and offered 
him a dram, he would throw out his quid of tobacoo to 
take one, and after he had taken his horn, I would out 
with my twist, and give him another chew. And iD this 


CROCKETT ELECTED. 


187 


Way he would not be worse off than when I found him; 
and I would be sure to leave him in a first-rate good 
humor. He said I could beat him electioneering all 
hollow. I told him I would give him better evidence of 
that before August, notwithstanding he had many advan¬ 
tages over me, and particularly in the way of money; 
but I told him I would go on the products of the country; 
that I had industrious children, and the best of coon- 
dogs; and they would hunt every night till midnight to 
support my election; and when the coon fur wasn’t good, 
I would myself go a wolfing, and shoot down a wolf, and 
skin his head, and his scalp would be good to me for 
three dollars, in our State Treasury money; and in this 
way I would get along on the big string. He stood like 
he was both amused and astonished, and the whole crowd 
was in a roar of laughter. From this place I returned 
home, leaving the people in a first-rate way, and I was 
sure I would do a good business among them. At any 
rate, I was determined to stand up to my lick-log, salt or 
no salt. 

In a short time there came out two other candidates, 
a Mr. Shaw and a Mr. Brown. We all ran the race 
through ; and when the election was over, it turned out 
that I beat them all by a majority of tw T o hundred and 
forty-seven votes, and was again returned as a member 
of the Legislature from a new region of the country, 
without losing a session. This reminded me of the old 
saw—“ A fool for luck, and a poor man for children.” 

I now served two years in that body from my new dis¬ 
trict, whicn was the years 1823 and 1824. At the ses- 


138 CROCKETT VOTES AGAINST JACKSON. 

fiion of 1823, I had a small trial of my independence, 
and whether 1 would forsake principle for party, or for 
the purpose of following after big mon. 

The term of Col. John Williams had expired, who w T as 
a senator in Congress from the State of Tennessee. He 
was a candidate for another election, and was opposed by 
rieasant M. Miller, Esq., who it was believed, would not 
be able to beat the Colonel. Some two or three others 
were spoken of, but it was at last concluded that the 
only man who could beat him was General Jackson. So, 
a few days before the election was to come on, he was 
sent for to come and run for the senate. He was then 
in nomination for the presidency; but sure enough he 
came, and did run as the opponent of Colonel Williams, 
and beat him too, but not by my vote. The vote was, 
for Jackson, thirty-jive ; for Williams, twenty-jive . I 
thought the Colonel had honestly discharged his duty, 
and even the mighty name of Jackson couldn’t make me 
vote against him. 

But voting against the old chief was found a mighty 
up-hill business to all of them except myself. I never 
would, nor never did, acknowledge I had voted wrong; 
and I am more certain now that I was right than ever. 

I told the people it was the best vote I ever gave; that 
I had supported the public interest, and cleared my con 
science in giving it, instead of gratifying the private 
ambition of a man. 

I let the people know as early as then, that I wouldn’t 
take a collar around my neck. 

During these two sessions of the Legislature, nothing 


CANDIDATE FOR CONGRESS. 


139 


else turned up which I think it worth while to mention; 
and, indeed, I am fearful that I am too particular about 
many small matters ; but if so, my apology is, that I 
want the world to understand my true history, and how 
I worked along to rise from the cane-brake to my present 
station in life. 

Col. Alexander was the representative in Congress of 
the district I lived in, and his vote on the tariff law of 
1824 gave a mighty heap of dissatisfaction to his people. 
They therefore began to talk pretty strong of running 
me for Congress against him. At last I was called on 
by a good many to be a candidate. I told the people 
that I couldn’t stand that; it was a step above my 
knowledge, and I know’d nothing about Congress 
matters. 

However, I was obliged to agree to run, and myself 
and two other gentlemen came out. But Providence 
was a little against two of us this hunt, for it was the 
year that cotton brought twenty-five dollars a hundred; 
and so Colonel Alexander would get up and tell the peo¬ 
ple, it was all the good effect of this tariff law; that it 
had raised the price of their cotton, and that it would 
raise the price of every thing else they made to sell. I 
might as well have sung psalms over a dead horse, as to 
tiy to make the people believe otherwise; for they know’d 
their cotton had raised, sure enough, and if the colonel 
hadn’t done it, they didn’t know what had. So he rather 
made a mash of me this time, as he beat me exactly two 
votes, as they counted the polls, though I have always 
believed that many other things had been as fairly done 
as that same count. 


140 


CANDIDATE FOR CONGRESS AGAIN, 


He went on, and served out his term, and at the end 
of it cotton was down to six or eight dollars a hundred 
again; and I concluded I would try him once more, and 
see how it would go with cotton at the common price, 
and so I became a candidate.* 

* It is certainly a very curious phase of American and especially 
of western character, which is exhibited in the ease and promptness 
with which the colonel passes from one act of the singular drama of 
his life to another. Yesterday, a rough bear-hunter, to-day, a mem¬ 
ber of the legislature ; to-morrow about to become a,member of Con¬ 
gress, and the fearless opponent of his old commander, General Jack- 
son. Such sudden and successful advances in life are scarcely seen 
except in our own country, where perfect freedom open* a bonndlese 
£eid to enterprise and perseveranoe. 


CHAPTER XIV. 


•Colonel Crockett engages in a Lumber Speculation—Boat Building 
—Bear Hunting—The Grubber—More Bear Hunting—Bear at¬ 
tacked in a cane brake—Bear attacked in a hollow tree—Three 
Bears killed—Cutting up the Bears and salting them. 

But the reader, I expect, would have no objection to 
know a little about my employment during the two years 
while my competitor was in Congress. In this space I 
had some pretty tough times, and will relate some few 
things that happened to me. So here goes, as the boy 
6aid when he run by himself. 

In the fall of 1825, I concluded I would build two 
large boats, and load them with pipe staves for market. 
So I went down to the lake, which was about twenty-five 
miles from where I lived, and hired some hands to assist 
me, and went to work ; some at boat building, and others 
to getting staves. I worked on with my hands till the 
bears got fat, and then I turned out to hunting, to lay in 
a supply of meat. I soon killed and salted down as 
many as was necessary for my family ; but about this 
time, one of my old neighbors who had settled down on 
the lake about twenty-five miles from me, came to my 
house and told me he wanted me to go down and kill 
some bears about in his parts. He said they w’cre ex¬ 
tremely fat, and very plenty. I knowed that when they 


142 


BEAR HUNTING. 


were fat they were easily taken, for a fat bear can’t 
run fast or long. But I asked a bear no favors, no way, 
further than civility, for I now had eight large dogs, and 
as fierce as painters, so that a bear stood no chance at 
all to get away from them. So I went home with him 
and then went on down towards the Mississippi and com¬ 
menced hunting. 

We were out two weeks, and in that time killed fifteen 
bears. Having now supplied my friend with plenty of 
meat, I engaged occasionally again with my hands in our 
boat building, and getting staves. But I at length 
couldn’t stand it any longer without another hunt. So 
I concluded to take my little son and cross over the 
lake, and take a hunt there. We got over, and that 
evening turned out and killed three bears in little or no 
time. The next morning we drove up four forks, and 
made a sort of scaffold, on which we salted up our meat, 
so as to have it out of the reach of the wolves, for as 
soon as we would leave our camp, they would take pos¬ 
session. We had just eat our breakfast, when a com¬ 
pany of hunters came to our camp who had fourteen 
dogs, but all so poor, that when they would bark they 
would almost have to lean up against a tree and take a 
rest. I told them xheir dogs couldn’t run in smell of a 
bear, and they had better stay at my camp and feed them 
on the bones I had cut out of my meat. I left them 
there and cut out; but I hadn’t gone far, when my dogs 
took a first rate start after a very large fat old he-bear, 
which run right plump towards my camp. I pursued on, 
but my other hunters had heard my dogs coming, and 
met them and killed the bear before I got up with him. 


BEAR HUNTING. 


143 


I gave him to them, and cut out again for a creek called 
Big Clover, which wasn’t very far off. Just as I got 
there, and was entering a cane brake, my dogs all broke 
and went ahead, and in a little time they raised a fuss in 
the cane, and seemed to be going every way. I lis¬ 
tened a while, and found my dogs was in two companies, 
and that both was in a snorting fight. I sent my little 
eon to one and I broke for t’other. I got to mine first, 
and found my dogs had a two-year-old bear down a-wool- 
ing away on him, so I just took out my big butcher, and 
went up and slapp’d it into him, and killed him without 
shooting. There was five of the dogs in my company. 
In a short time I heard my little son fire at his bear; 
when I went to him he had killed it too. He had tw:» 
dogs in his team. Just at this moment we heard my 
other dog harking a short distance off, and all the rest 
immediately broke to him. We pushed on too, and when 
we got there, we found that he had still a larger hear 
than either of them we had killed, treed by himself. We 
killed that one also, which made three we had killed in 
less than half an hour. We turned in and butchered 
them, and then started to hunt for water and a good 
place to camp. But we had no sooner started, than our 
dogs took a start after another one, and away they went 
like a thundergust and was out of hearing in a minute. 
We followed the way they had gone for some time, hut 
at length we gave up the hope of finding them, and 
turned back. As we were going back, I came to where 
a poor fellow was grubbing, and he looked like the very 
picture of hard times. I asked him what he was doing 
away there in the woods by himself? He said he was 


144 


CROCKETT PATRONIZES A GRUBBER. 


gruVbing for a man who intended to settle there ; and 
tne reason why he did it was, that he had no meat for 
his family, and he was working for a little. 

1 was mighty sorry for the poor fellow, for it was not 
only a hard but a very slow way to- get meat for a hun¬ 
gry family; so I told him if he would go with me, I 
would give him more meat than he could get by grubbing 
in a month. I intended to supply him with meat, and 
also to get him to assist my little boy in packing and 
salting up my bears. He had never seen a bear killed 
in his life. I told him I had six killed then, and my 
dogs were hard after another. He went off to his little 
cabin, which was a short distance in the brush, and his 
wife was very anxious he should go with me. So we 
started and went to where I had left my three bears, and 
made a camp. We then gathered my meat, and salted 
and scaffold it, as I had done the other. Night now 
came on, but no word from my dogs yet. I afterwards 
found they had treed the bear about five miles off, near 
to a man’s house, and had barked at it the whole endu¬ 
ring night. Poor fellows ! many a time they looked for 
me, and wondered why I didn’t come, for they know’d 
there was no mistake in me, and I know’d they were as 
good as ever fluttered. In the morning, as soon as it 
was light enough to see, the man took his gun and went 
to them, and shot the bear and killed it. My dogs, how¬ 
ever, wouldn’t have anything to say to this stranger; so 
they left him, and came early in the morning back to 
me. 

We got our breakfast and cut out again, and we killed 
four large and very fat bears that day. We hunted out 


MORE BEAR HUNTING. 


145 


the 'week, aid in that time we killed seventeen, all of 
them first rate. When we closed our hunt, I gave the 
man over a thousand weight of fine, fat bear-meat, which 
pleased him mightily, and made him feel as rich as a 
Jew. I saw him the next fall, and he told me he had 
plenty of meat to do him the whole year from his week’s 
hunt. My son and me now went home. This was the 
-week between Christmas and New Year, that we made 
this hunt. 

When I got home, one of my neighbors was out of 
meat, and wanted me to go back, and let him go with 
me, to take another hunt. I couldn’t refuse; but I told 
him I was afraid the bear had taken to house by that 
time, for after they get very fat in the fall and early 
part of the winter, they go into their holes, in large 
hollow trees, or into hollow logs, or their cane-houses, 
or the harricanes; and lie there till spring, like frozen 
snakes. And one thing about this will seem mighty 
strange to many people. From about the first of Janu¬ 
ary to about the last of April, these varments lie in 
their holes altogether. In all that time they have no 
food to eat; and yet when they come out, they are not 
an ounce lighter than when they went to house. I don’t 
jinow the cause of this, and still I know it is a fact; 
and I leave it for others who have more learning than 
myself to account for it. They have not a particle of 
food with them, but they just lie and suck the bottom 
of their paw all the time. I have killed many of them 
in their trees, which enables me to speak positively on 
this subject. However, my neighbor, whose name was 
McDaniel, and my little son and me, went on down to 
10 


146 


BEAR IN A CANE BRAKE. 


the lake to my second camp, where I had killed my 
seventeen bears the week before, and turned out to 
hunting. But we hunted hard all day without getting 
a single start. We had carried hut little piovisions 
w th us, and the next morning ^as entirely out of meat 
I sent my son about three miles off, to the house of an 
old fiiend, to get some. The old gentleman was much 
pleased to hear I was hunting in those parts, for the 
year before the bears had killed a great many of his 
hogs. He was that day killing his bacon hogs, and so 
he gave my son some meat, and sent word to me that J 
must come in to his house that evening, that he would 
have plenty of feed for my dogs, and some accommoda¬ 
tions for ourselves ; but before my son got back, we had 
gone out hunting, and in a large cane brake my dogs 
found a big bear in a cane-house, which he had fixed for 
his winter-quarters, as they sometimes do. 

When my lead dog found him, and raised the yell, all 
the rest broke to him, but none of them entered his 
house until we got up. I encouraged my dogs, and they 
knowed me so well, that I could have made them seize 
the old serpent himself, with all his horns and heads, 
and cloven foot and ugliness into the bargain, if he would 
only have come to light, so that they could have seen 
him. They bulged in, and in an instant the bear fol¬ 
lowed them out, and I told my friend to shoot him, as 
he was mighty wrathy to kill a bear. He did so, and 
killed him prime. We carried him to our camp, by 
which time my son had returned; and after we got our 
dinners we packed up, and cut for the house of my old 
friend, whose name was Davidson. 


BEAR IN A HOLLOW TREE. 147 

We got there, and staid with him that night; and the 
next morning, having salted up our meat, we left it with 
him, and started to take a hunt between the Obion lake 
and the Red foot lake; as there had been a dreadful 
harricane, which passed between them, and I was sure 
there must be a heap of bears in the fallen timber. We 
had gone about five miles without seeing any sign at all; 
but at length we got on some high cany ridges, and, as 
w T e rode along, I saw a hole in a large black oak, and 
on examining more closely, I discovered that a bear had 
clomb the tree. I could see his tracks going up, but 
none coming down, and so I was sure he W'as in there. 
A person who is acquainted with bear-hunting, can tell 
easy enough when the varment is in the hollow; for as 
they go up they don’t slip a bit, but as they come down 
they make long scratches with their nails. 

My friend was a little ahead of me, but J called him 
back, and told him there was a bear in that tree, and I 
must have him out. So we lit from our horses, and I 
found a small tree which I thought I could fall so as to 
lodge against my bear tree, and we fell to work chop¬ 
ping it with our tomahawks. I intended, when we 
lodged the tree against the other, to let my little son go 
up, and look into the hole, for he could climb like a 
squirrel. We had chopp’d on a little time and stopp’d 
t: rest, when I heard my dogs barking mighty severe 
at some distance from us, and I told my friend I knowed 
they had a bear; for it is the nature of a dog, when he 
finds you are hunting bears, to hunt for nothing else; 
he becomes fond of the meat, and considers other game 


148 


THIRD BEAR KILLED. 


as “not worth a notice,” as old Johnson said of the 
devil. 

We concluded to leave our tree a bit, and went to my 
dogs, and when we got there, sure enough they had an 
eternal great big fat bear up a tree, just ready for 
shooting. My friend again petitioned me for liberty to 
shoot this one also. I had a little rather not, as the 
bear was so big, but I couldn’t refuse; and so he blazed 
away, and down came the old fellow like some great log 
had fell. I now missed one of my dogs, the same that 
I before spoke of as having treed the bear by himself 
sometime before, when I had started the three in the 
cane brake. I told my friend that my missing dog had 
a bear somewhere, just as sure as fate; so I left them 
to butcher the one we had just killed, and I went up on 
a piece of high ground to listen for my dog. I heard 
him barking with all his might some distance off, and I 
pushed ahead for him. My other dogs hearing him 
broke to him, and when I got there, sure enough again 
he had another bear ready treed; if he hadn’t, I wish 
I may be shot. I fired on him, and brought him down; 
and then went back, and help’d finish butchering the 
one at which I had left my friend. We then packed 
both to our tree where we had left my boy. By this 
time, the little fellow had cut the tree down that we in¬ 
tended to lodge, but it fell the wrong way; he had then 
feather’d in on the big tree, to cut that, and had found 
that it was nothing but a shell on the outside, and all 
doted in the middle, as too many of our big men are in 
these days, having only an outside appearance. My 
friend and my son cut away on it, and I went off about 


CUTTING UP THE BEARS. 


149 

a hundred yards with my dogs to keep them from run¬ 
ning under the tree when it should fall. On looking 
back at the hole, I saw the bear’s head out of it, look* 
ing down at them as they were cutting. I hollered to 
them to look up, and they did so ; and McDaniel catched 
up his gun, but by this time the bear was out, and com¬ 
ing down the tree. He fired at it, and as soon as it 
touched the ground the dogs were all round it, and they 
had a roll-and-tumble fight to the foot of the hill, where 
they stopp’d him. I ran up, and putting my gun 
against the bear, fired and killed him. We had now 
three, and so we made our scaffold and salted them up. 3,1 

* One cannot help admiring the ease and nonchalance with which 
the colonel disposes of his bears as they present themselves, one after 
another. Ordinarily a bear fight is a pretty serious affair; but Col¬ 
onel Crockett makes nothing of killing several in a day 


CHAPTER XV. 


More bear hunting—Shooting a bear—Crockett benighted in the 
woods—Night encounter *with a bear—Crockett nearly frozen to 
death—Dreadful earthquake—Ten bears killed during this hunt. 

In the morning I left my son at the camp, and we 
started on towards the harricane; and when we hal 
went about a mile, we started a very large bear, but we 
got along mighty slow on account of the cracks in the 
earth occasioned by the earthquakes. We, however, 
made out to keep in hearing of the dogs for about three 
miles, and then we come to the harricane. Here we had 
to quit our horses, as old Nick himself couldn’t have 
got through it without sneaking it along in the form that 
he put on, to make a fool of our old grandmother Eve. 
By this time several of my dogs had got tired and come 
back; but we went ahead on foot for some little time in 
the harricane, when we met a bear coming straight to 
us, and not more than twenty or thirty yards off. I 
started my tired dogs after him, and McDaniel pursued 
them, and I went on to where my other dogs were. I 
had seen the track of the bear they were after, and 1 
knowed he was a screamer. I followed on to about the 
middle of the harricane, but my dogs pursued him sc 
close, that they made him climb an old stump about 

twenty feet high. I got in shooting distance of him 
‘ ( 150 ) 


SHOOTING A BEAR. 


151 


and fired, but I was all over in such a flutter from fatigue 
and running, that I couldn’t hold steady; but, however, 
I broke his shoulder, and he fell. I run up and loaded 
my gun as quick as possible, and shot him again and 
killed him. When I went to take out my knife to 
butcher him, I found I had lost it in coming through the 
harricane. The vines and briers was so thick that I 
would sometimes have to get down and crawl like a var¬ 
ment to get through at all; and a vine had, as I sup¬ 
posed, caught in the handle and pulled it out. While I 
was standing and studying what to do, my friend came 
to me. He had followed my trail through the harricane, 
and had found my knife, which was mighty good news 
to me; as a hunter hates the worst in the world to lose 
a good dog, or any part of his hunting tools. I now 
left McDaniel to butcher the bear, and I went after our 
horses, and brought them as near as the nature of the 
;ase would allow. I then took our bags, and went back 
to where he was; and when we had skinned the bear, 
we fleeced off the fat and carried it to our horses at 
several loads. We then packed it up on our horses, and 
had a heavy pack of it on each one. We now started 
and went on till about sunset, when I concluded we must 
be near our camp; so I hollered and my son answered 
me, and we moved on in the direction to the camp. We 
had gone but a little w r ay when I heard my dogs make 
a warm start again ; and I jumped down from my horse 
and gave him up to my friend, and told him I would 
follow them. He went on to the camp, and I went 
ahead after my dogs with all my might for a consider¬ 
able distance, till at last night came on. The wood* 


152 


BENIGHTED IN THE WOODS. 


Were very rough and hilly, and all covered over with 
cane. 

I now was compelled to move on more slowly; and 
was frequently falling over logs, and into the cracks 
made by the earthquakes, so that I was very much afraid 
I would break my gun. However, I went on about three 
miles, when I came to a good big creek, which I waded. 
It was very cold, and the creek was about knee-deep; 
but I felt no great inconvenience from it just then, as I 
was all over wet with sweat from running, and I felt hot 
enough. After I got over this creek and out of the 
cane, which was very thick on all our creeks, I listened 
for my dogs. I found they had either treed or brought 
the bear to a stop, as they continued barking in the same 
place. I pushed on as near in the direction of the noise 
as I could, till I found the hill was too steep for me to 
climb, and so I backed and went down the creek some 
distance, till I came to a hollow, and then took up that, 
till I came to a place where I could climb up the hill. 
It was mighty dark, and was difficult to see my way, or 
anything else. When I got up the hill, I found I had 
passed the dogs; and so I turned and went to them. I 
found, w T hen I got there, they had treed the bear in a 
large forked poplar, and it was setting in the fork. 

I could see the lump, but not plain enough to shoot 
with any certainty, as there was no moonlight; and so I 
Bet in to hunting for some dry brush to make me a light; 
but I could find none, though I could find that the ground 
was torn mightily to pieces by the cracks. 

At last I thought I could shoot by guesn, and kill 
him; so I pointed as near the lump as I could, and fired 


MGIIT FIGHT WITH A BEAR. 


155 


away. But the bear didn’t come, he only dumb up 
higher, and got out on a limb, -which helped me to see 
him better. I now loaded up again and fired, but this 
time he didn’t move at all. I commenced loading for a 
third fire, but the first thing I knowed, the bear was 
down among my dogs, and they were fighting all around 
me. I had my big butcher in my belt, and I had 
a pair of dressed buckskin breeches on. So I took out 
my knife, and stood, determined, if he should get hold 
of me, to defend myself in the best way I could. I 
stood there for some time, and could now and then see a 
white dog I had, but the rest of them, and the bear, 
which were dark colored, I couldn’t see at all, it was so 
miserable dark. They still fought around me, and some¬ 
times within three feet of me; but, at last, the bear got 
down into one of the cracks that the earthquakes had 
made in the ground, about four feet deep, and I could 
tell the biting end of him by the hollering of my dogs. 
So I took my gun and pushed the muzzle of it about, till 
I thought I had it against the main part of his body, and 
fired; but it happened to be only the fleshy part of his 
foreleg. With this he jumped out of the crack, and ho 
and the dogs had another hard fight around me, as be¬ 
fore. At last, however, they forced him back into the 
crack again, as he was when I had she t. 

I had laid down my gun in the dark, and I now began 
to hunt for it; and, while hunting, I got hold of a pole, 
and I concluded I would punch him awhile with that. 1 
did so, and when I w T ould punch him, the dogs would 
jump in on him, when he would bite them badly, and 
they would jump out again. I concluded, as he would 


154 


CROCKETT NEARLY FROZEJT. 


take punching so patiently, it might be that he would 
lie still enough for me to get down in the crack, and 
feel slowly along till J could find the right place to give 
him a dig with my butcher. So I got down, and my 
dogs got in before him and kept his head towards them, 
till I got along easily up to him; and placing my hand 
on liis rump, felt for his shoulder, just behind which I 
intended to stick him. I made a lunge with my long 
knife, and fortunately stuck him right through the heart, 
at which he just sank down, and I crawled out n a 
hurry. In a little time my dogs all come out too, and 
seemed satisfied, which was the way they always had of 
Celling me that they had finished him. 

I suffered very much that night with cold, as my 
leather breeches, and everything else I had on, was wet 
and frozen. But I managed to get my bear out of this 
crack after several hard trials, and so I butchered him 
and laid down to try to sleep. But my fire was very bad, 
and I couldn’t find anything that would burn well to 
make it any better; and so I concluded I should freeze, 
if I didn’t warm myself in some way by exercise. So I 
got up and hollered awhile, and then I would just jump 
up and down with all my might, and throw myself into 
all sorts of motions. But all this wouldn’t do; for my 
blood was now getting cold, and the chills coming all 
over me. I was so tired, too, that I could hardly walk; 
but I thought I would do the best I could to save my 
life, and then, if I died, nobody would be to blame. So 
E went to a tree about two feet through, and not a limb 
*n it for thiity feet, and I would climb up to the limbs, 


AN EARTHQUAKE. 


151 


and then lock my arms together around it, and slide 
down to the bottom again. This would make the insides 
of my legs and arms feel mighty warm and good. I 
continued this till daylight in the morning, and how often 
1 dumb up my tree and slid down I don’t know, but I 
reckon at least a hundred times. 

In the morning I got my bear hung up so as to be 
safe, and then set out to hunt for my camp. 1 found it 
after awhile, and McDaniel and my son were very much 
rejoiced to see me get back, for they were about to give 
me up for lost. We got our breakfasts, and then secured 
our meat by building a high scaffold, and covering it 
over. We had no fear of its spoiling, for the weather 
was so cold that it couldn’t. 

We now started after my other bear, which had caused 
me so much trouble and suffering; and before we got 
him, we got a start after another, and took him also. 
We went on to the creek I had crossed the night before, 
and camped, and then went to where my bear was that 
I had killed in the crack. When we examined the place, 
McDaniel said he wouldn’t have gone into it, as I did, 
for all the bears in the woods. 

We then took the meat down to our camp and salted 
it, and also the last one we had killed; intending in the 
morning, to make a hunt in the harricane again. 

We prepared for resting that night, and I can assure 
the reader I was in need of it. We had laid down by 
our fire, and about ten o’clock there came a most terri¬ 
ble earthquake, which shook the earth so, that we were 
rocked about like we had been in a cradle. We were 


156 


TENTH BEAR KILLED. 


very much alarmed; for though we were accustomed to 
feel earthquakes, we were now right in the region which 
had been torn to pieces by them in 1812, and we thought 
it might take a notion and swallow us up, like the big fish 
did Jonah. 

In the morning we packed up and moved to the ham- 
cane, where we made another camp, and turned out that 
evening and killed a very large bear, which made eight 
we had now killed in this hunt. 

The next morning we entered the harricane again, 
and in a little or no time my dogs were in full cry. We 
pursued them, and soon came to a thick cane-brake, in 
which they had stopp’d their bear. We got up close to 
him, as the cane was so thick that we couldn’t see more 
than a few feet. Here I made my friend hold the cane 
a little open with his gun till I shot the bear, which was 
a mighty large one. I killed him dead in his tracks. 
We got him out and butchered him, and in a little time 
started another and killed him, which now made ten we 
had killed; and we knowed we couldn’t pack any more 
home, as we had only five horses along; therefore we 
returned to the camp and salted up all our meat, to be 
ready for a start homeward next morning. 

The morning came, and we packed our horses with the 
meat, and had as much as they could possibly carry, and 
sure enough cut out for home. It was about thirty 
miles, and we reached home the second day. 1 had now 
accommodated my neighbor with meat enough to do him, 
and had killed in all, up to that time, fifty-eight bears, 
during the fall and winter. 

As soon as the time come foi them to quit their houses 


ONE HUNDRED AND FIVE BEARS KILLED. 157 


and come out again in the spring, I took a notion to 
hunt a little more, and in about one month I killed 
forty-seven more, which made one hundred and five 
bears which I had killed in less than one year from 
that time.* 

* These bear hunts of the Colonel entirely surpass anything on ro> 
cord. Mr. Gordon Cmnming’s record of his fights with lions, elo- 
phants, giraffes, hippopotamuses, and African buffaloes, is full of ex 
citwnent and interest: but in real peril and adventure, they tv no 
means surpass Colonel Crockett's bear fights. 


CHAPTER XVI. 


Colonel Crockett attends to his lumber speculations—Goes down the 
Mississippi with his lumber—Difficult navigation—Boat9 swamped 
—Narrow escape of the Colonel from drowning—Result of the 
speculation a total loss. 

Having now closed my hunting for that winter, I re¬ 
turned to my hands, who were engaged about my boats 
and staves, and made ready for a trip down the river. 
I had two boats and about thirty thousand staves, and 
so I loaded with them, and set out for New Orleans. I got 
out of the Obion river, in which I had loaded my boats, very 
well; hut when I got into the Mississippi, I found all my 
hands were bad scared, and in fact I believe I was scared 
a little the worst of any; for I had never been down the 
river, and I soon discovered that my pilot was as igno¬ 
rant of the business as myself. I hadn’t gone far before 
I determined to lash the two boats together; we did so, 
but it made them so heavy and obstinate, that it was 
next akin to impossible to do anything at all with them, 
or to guide them right in the river. 

That evening we fell in company with some Ohio 
boats; and about night we tried to land, but we could 
not. The Ohio men hollered to us to go on and run all 
night. We took their advice, though we had 9 good 
(158) 


THE DEVIL’S ELBOW. 


159 


deal rather not; hut we couldn’t do any other way. In 
a short distance we got into what is called the “ Devil's 
Elbow and if any place in the wide creation has its 
ovn proper name, I thought it was this. Here we had 
ubout the hardest work that I ever was engaged in, in 
my life, to keep out of danger; and even then we were 
in it all the while. We twice attempted to land at 
Wood-yards, which we could see but couldn’t reach. 

The people would run out with lights, and try to in¬ 
struct us how to get to shore; but all in vain. Our 
boats were so heavy that we couldn’t take them much 
any way, except the way they wanted to go, and just 
the way the current would carry them. At last we quit 
trying to land, and concluded just to go ahead as well 
as we could, for we found we couldn’t do any better. 
Some time in the night I was down in the cabin of one 
of the boats, sitting by the fire, thinking on what a hob¬ 
ble we had got into; and how much better bear-hunting 
was on hard land, than floating along on the water, when 
a fellow had to go ahead whether he was exactly willing 
or not. 

The hatchway into the cabin came slap down, right 
through the top of the boat; and it was the only way out 
except a small hole in the side, which we had used for 
putting our arms through to dip up water before we 
lashed the boats together. 

We were now floating sideways, and the boat I was 
in was the hindmost as we went. All at once I heard 
the hands begin to run over the top of the boat in great 
confusion, and pull with all their might; and the first 
thing I know’d after this we went broadside full tilt 


160 


NARROW ESCAPE FROM DROWNING. 


against the head of an island where a large raft of drift 
timber had lodged. The nature of such a place would 
be, as everybody knows, to suck the boats down, and turn 
them right under this raft; and the uppermost boat would, 
of course, be suck’d down and go under first. As soon 
as we struck, I bulged for my hatchway, as the boat was 
turning under sure enough. But when I got to it, the 
water was pouring through in a current as large as the 
hole would let it, and as strong as the weight of the 
river would force it. I found I couldn’t get out here, 
for the boat was now turned down in such a way, that it 
w T as steeper than a house-top. I now thought of the 
hole in the side, and made my way in a hurry for that. 
With difficulty I got to it, and when I got there, I found 
it was too small for me to get out by my own power, and 
I began to think that I was in a worse box than ever. 
But I put my arms through and hollered as loud as 1 
could roar, as the boat I was in hadn’t yet quite filled 
with water up to my head, and the hands who were next 
to the raft, seeing my arms out, and hearing me holler, 
seized them, and began to pull. I told them I was sink¬ 
ing, and to pull my arms off, or force me through, for 
now I know’d well enough it was neck or nothing, come 
out or sink. 

By a violent effort they jerked me through ; but I was 
in a pretty pickle when I got through. I had been 
sitting without any clothing over my shirt; this was torn 
off, and I was literally skin’d like a rabbit. I was, how¬ 
ever, well pleased to get out in any way, even without 
shirt or hide; as before I could straighten myself on the 
boat next to the raft, the one they pull’d me out of went 


MEETS WITH A FRIEND. 


161 


entirely under, and I have never seen it any more to this 
day. We all escaped on to the raft, where we were com¬ 
pelled to sit all night about a mile from land on either 
side. Four of my company were bareheaded, and three 
barefooted; and of that number I was one. I reckon 1 
looked like a pretty cracklin ever to get to Congress!!! 

We had now lost all our loading; and every particle 
of our clothing, except what little we had on ; but over 
all this, while I was setting there, in the night, floating 
about on the drift, I felt happier and better off than I 
had ever had in my life before, for I had just made such 
a marvellous escape, that I had forgot almost every thing 
else in that; and so I felt prime. 

In the morning about sunrise, we saw a boat coming 
down, and we hailed her. They sent a large skiff, and 
took us all on board, and carried us down as far as 
Memphis. Here I met with a friend, that I never can 
forget as long as I am able to go ahead at anything ; it 
was a Major Winchester, a merchant of that place : he let 
us all have hats, and shoes, and some little money to go 
upon, and so we all parted. 

A young man and myself concluded to go on down to 
Natchez, to see if we could hear anything of our boats; 
for we supposed they would float out from the raft, and 
keep on down the river. We got on a boat at Memphis, 
that was going down, and so cut out. Our largest boat, 
we were informed, had been seen about fifty miles below 
where we stove, and an attempt had been made to land 
her, but without success, as she was as hard headed as 
ever. 

This was the last of my boats, and of my boating; for 
11 


162 


CROCKETT RETURNS HOME. 


it went so badly with me, along at the first, that I had 
not much mind to try it any more. I now returned 
home again, and as the next August was the Congressional 
election, I began to turn my attention a little to that 
matter, as it was beginning to be talked of a good deal 
among the people.* 

* Every thing of the speculative or business sort seems to have 
turned out badly with the Colonel. He had no talent for that sort 
of thing. His real forte in the way of exertion, was war and bear¬ 
hunting. Politics was rather an amusement; and yet on the whole 
he was successful in this line. His stump speeches, made off hand, 
pleased the people more than the elaborate performances of highly 
educated orators, and his course in Congress gained him the respect 
of the first statesmen of his time, as we shall see in tbe sequel of hit 
narrative. 


CHAPTER XVII. 


Colonel Crockett enters on a new canvass for Congiess— A friend 
supplies “ the Sinews of war”—Electioneering—A Stump speech- 
incident of the Guinea-fowls turned to a good account-—Crockett 
elected—Serves in Congress during Adams’ administration—Ro 
elected to Congress—Yotes against the Indian bill—Political per¬ 
secution—Crockett proposed for Congress again — Defeated- 
Crockett’s district Gerrymandeml to keep him out of Congress— 
He is elected. 

I have, heretofore, informed the reader that I had de¬ 
termined to run this race to gee what effect the price of 
cotton would have again on it. I now had Colonel Alex¬ 
ander to run against once more* and also General William 
Arnold. 

I had difficulties enough to fight against this time, as 
every one will suppose; for I had no money, and a very 
bad prospect, so far as I know’d, of getting any to help 
me along. I had, however, a good friend, who sent for 
me to come and see him. I went, and he was good 
enough to offer me some money to help me out. I bor¬ 
rowed as much as I thought I needed at the start, and 
went ahead. My friend also had a good deal of business 
about over the district at the different courts; and if he 
now and then slipp’d in a good word for me, it is no¬ 
body’s business. We frequently met at different places, 
and, as he thought I needed, he would occasionally hand 

a § 3 : 


164 


ELECTED TO CONGRESS. 


me a little more cash; so I was able to buy a little of 
“ the creature ,” to put my friends in a good humor, as 
well as the other gentlemen, for they all treat in that 
country ; not to get elected, of course—for that would be 
against the law; but just, as I before said, to make them¬ 
selves and their friends feel their keeping a little. 

Nobody ever did know how I got money to get along 
on, till after the election was over, and I had beat my 
competitors, twenty-seven hundred and forty-eight votes. 
Even the price of cotton couldn’t save my friend Aleck 
this time. My rich friend, who had been so good to me 
in the way of money, now sent for me, and loaned me a 
hundred dollars, and told me to go ahead: that that 
amount would bear my expenses to Congress, and I must 
then shift for myself. I came on to Washington, and 
draw’d two hundred and fifty dollars, and purchased with 
it a check on the bank at Nashville, and enclosed it to 
my friend; and I may say, in truth, I sent this money 
with a mighty good will, for I reckon nobody in this 
world loves a friend better than me, or remembers a 
kindness longer. 

I have now given the close of the election, but I 
have skipp’d entirely over the canvass, of which I will 
say a very few things in this place, as I know very well 
how to tell the truth, but not much about placing them 
in book order, so as to please critics. 

Col. Alexander was a very clever fellow, and principal 
surveyor at that time; so much for one of the men I had 
to run against. My other competitor was a major-gene¬ 
ral in the militia, and an attorney-general at the law, 
and quite a smart, clever man also ) and so it will be seen 


A STUMP SPEECH. 


16& 


I had war work as well as law trick to stand up under. 
Taking both together, they make a pretty considerable 
of a load for any one man to carry. But for war claims, 
I consider myself behind no man except “the govern¬ 
ment,” and mighty little, if any, behind him; but this 
the people will have to determine hereafter, as I reckon 
it won’t do to quit the work of “ reform and retrench 
ment” yet for a spell. 

But my two competitors seemed some little afraid of 
the influence of each other, but not to think me in their 
way at all. They, therefore, were generally working 
against each other, while I was going ahead for myself, 
and mixing among the people in the best way I could. 
I was as cunning as a little red fox, and wouldn’t risk 
my tail in a “ committal trap.” 

I found the sign was good, almost every where I went. 
On one occasion, while we were in the eastern counties 
of the district, it happened that we all had to make a 
speech, and it fell on me to make the first one. I did 
so after my manner, and it turned pretty much on the 
old saying, “ A short horse is soon curried,” as I spoke 
not very long. Colonel Alexander followed me, and 
then General Arnold come on. 

The general took much pains to reply to Alexander, 
but didn’t so much as let on that there was any such 
candidate as myself at all. He had been speaking for a 
considerable time, when a large flock of guinea-fowls 
came very near to where he was, and set up the most 
unmerciful chattering that ever was heard, for they are 
a noisy little brute any way. They so confused the 
general, that he made a stop, and requested that they 


166 


THE GUINEA FOWLS. 


might be driven away. I let him finish his speech, and 
then walking up to him, said aloud, “Well, colonel, you 
are the first man I ever saw that understood the language 
of fowls.” I told him that he had not had the politeness to 
name me in his speech, and that when my little friends, the 
guinea-fowls, had come up and began to holler, “ Crock¬ 
ett, Crockett, Crockett,” he had been ungenerous enough 
to stop, and drive them all away. This raised a univer¬ 
sal shout among the people for me, and the general 
seemed mighty bad plagued. But he got more plagued 
than this at the polls in August, as I have stated before. 

This election was in 182T, and I can say, on my con¬ 
science, that I was without disguise, the friend and sup¬ 
porter of General Jackson, upon his principles as he had 
laid them down, and as “ I understood them,” before his 
election as President. During my two first sessions in 
Congress, Mr. Adams was president, and I worked along 
with what was called the Jackson party pretty well. I 
was re-elected to Congress in 1829, by an overwhelming 
majority; and soon after the commencement of this sec¬ 
ond term, I saw, or thought I did, that it was expected 
of me that I would bow to the name of Andrew Jackson, 
and follow him in all his motions, and windings, and turn- 
ings, even at the expense of my conscience and judg¬ 
ment. Such a thing was new to me, and a total stran¬ 
ger to my principles. I know’d well enough, though, 
that if 1 didn’t “ hurra” for his name, the hue and cry 
was to be raised against me, and I was to be sacrificed, 
if possible. His famous, or rather I should say his in- 
famous , Indian bill was brought forward, and I opposed 
lc from the purest motives in the world. Several of my 


POLITICAL PERSECUTION. 


16T 


colleagues got around me, and told me how well they 
loved me, and that I was ruining myself. They said 
this was a favorite measure of the president, and I ought 
to go for it. I told them I believed it was a wicked, 
unjust measure, and that I should go against it, let the 
cost to myself be what it might; that I was willing to 
go with General Jackson in everything that I believel 
was honest and right; but, further than this, I wouldn’t 
go for him, or any other man in the whole creation; that 
I would sooner be honestly and politically d—nd, than 
hypocritically immortalized. I had been elected by a 
majority of three thousand fiye hundred and eighty-five 
votes, and I believed they were honest men, and wouldn’t 
want me to vote for any unjust notion, to please Jack- 
son or any one else; at any rate, I was of age, and de¬ 
termined to trust them. I voted against this Indian bill, 
and my conscience yet tells me that 1 gave a good hon¬ 
est vote, and one that I believe will not make me 
ashamed in the day of judgment. I served out my term, 
and though many amusing things happened, I am not 
disposed to swell my narrative by inserting them. 

When it closed, and I returned home, I found the 
storm had raised against me sure enough; and it was 
echoed from side to side, and from end to end of my dis¬ 
trict, that I had turned against Jackson. This was con¬ 
sidered the unpardonable sin. I was hunted down like 
a wild varment, and in this hunt every little newspaper 
in the district, and every little pin-hook lawyer was en¬ 
gaged. Indeed, they were ready to print anything and 
everything that the ingenuity of man could invent against 
me. Each editor was furnished with the journals of 


m 


CROCKETT DEFEATED. 


Congress from head-quarters; and hunted out every votd 
I had missed in four sessions, whether from sickness or 
not, no matter: and each one was charged against me at 
eiyht dollars. In all I had missed about seventy vote3, 
which they made amount to five hundred and sixty dol¬ 
lars ; and they contended that I had swindled the gov¬ 
ernment out of this sum, as I received my pay, as other 
members do. I was now again a candidate in 1830, 
while all the attempts were making against me; and 
every one of these little papers kept up a constant war 
on me, fighting with every scurrilous report they could 
catch. 

Over all I should have been elected, if it hadn’t been 
that but a few weeks before the election, the little four- 
pence-ha’-penny limbs of the law fell cn a plan to defeat 
me, which had the desired effect. They agreed to spread 
out over the district, and make appointments for me to 
speak almost everywhere to clear up the Jackson ques¬ 
tion. They would give me pj notice of these appoint¬ 
ments, and the people would meet in great crowds to 
hear what excuse Crockett had to make for quitting 
Jackson. 

But instead of Crockett’s being there, this small-fry 
of lawyers would be there, with their saddle-bags full of 
the little newspapers and their journals of Congress, and 
would get up and speak, and read their scurrilous attacks 
on me, and would then tell the people that I was afraid 
to attend; and in this way would turn many against me. 
All this intrigue was kept a profound secret from me, 
till it was too late to counteract it; and when the elec¬ 
tion came, I had a majority in seventeen counties, put- 


CROCKETT’S DISTRICT GERRYMANDERED. 160 

ting all tlieir votes together, hut the eighteenth beat me; 
and so I was left out of Congress during those two years. 
The people of my district Were induced, by these tricks, 
to take a stay on me for that time ; hut they have since 
found out that they were imposed on, and on re-consid¬ 
ering my case, have reversed that decision, which, as the 
Dutchman said, “ is as fair a ding as eber was.” 

When I last declared myself a candidate, I knew that 
the district would be divided by the Legislature before 
the election would come on ; and I moreover knew, that 
from the geographical situation of the country, the 
county of Madison, which was very strong, and which 
was the county that had given the majority that had 
beat me in the former race, should be left off from my 
district. 

But when the Legislature met, as I had been informed, 
and I have no doubt of the fact, Mr. Fitzgerald, my com¬ 
petitor, went up and informed his friends in that body, 
that if Madison county was left off, he wouldn’t run; for 
“ that Crockett could beat Jackson himself in those 
parts, in any way they could fix it.” 

The liberal Legislature you know, of course, gave him 
that county ; and it is too clear to admit of dispute, that 
it was done to make a mash of me. In order to make 
my district in this way, they had to form the southern 
district of a string of counties around three sides of mine, 
or very nearly so. Had my old district been properly 
divided, it would have made two nice ones in convenient 
nice form. But as it is, they are certainly the most un¬ 
reasonably laid off of any in the State, or perhaps in the 
nation, or even in the tetotal creation. 


iro 


CROCKETT ELECTED. 


However, when the election came on, the people of the 
district and of Madison county among the rest, seemed 
disposed to prove to Mr. Fitzgerald and the Jackson Le¬ 
gislature, that they were not to be transferred like hogs, 
and horses, and cattle in the market; and they deter¬ 
mined that I shouldn’t he broke down, though I had to 
carry Jackson, and the enemies of the bank, and the 
legislative works all at once. I had Mr. Fitzgerald, it 
is true, for my open competitor, but he was helped along 
by all his little lawyers again, headed by old Black Hawk, as 
he is sometimes called, (alias) Adam Huntsman, with all 
his talents for writing “ Chronicles ,” and such like fool¬ 
ish stuff. 

But one good thing was, and I must record it, the pa¬ 
pers in the district were now beginning to say “ fair play 
a little,” and they would publish on both sides the ques¬ 
tion. The contest was a warm one, and the battle w r ell 
fought; but I gained the day, and the Jackson horse was 
left a little behind. When the polls were compared, it 
turned out I had beat Fitz just two hundred and two 
votes, having made a mash of ^1 their intrigues. 


CHAPTER XYIII. 


Colonel Crockett commences his tour to the Northern States— Enter* 
taincd at Barnuin’s Hotel in Baltimore—Passage to Philadelphia 
—Crockett’s Toast—Grand Reception at Philadelphia—Arrival 
at United States Hotel—Crockett’s Speech—Walk round the 
Quaker City at night—Visited by distinguished citizens—Visit tc 
the Water Works, the Mint, and the Asylum for ihe Insane—. 
Crockett’s Speech at the Exchange—Great Applause—Goes to the 
Walnut Street Theatre—Crockett presented with a Watch-Seal, 
and Rifle—Visits the Navy Yard—Takes a ride with Colonel Ree- 
side—Takes a supper with Mr. Dorrance, and makes a call on Col 
ouel Saiut. 

During the session of this Congress, I thought I 
would take a travel through the Northern States. I had 
Draved the lonely forests of the West, I had shouldered 
the warrior’s rifle in the far South; but the North and 
East I had never seen. I seemed to like members of 
Congress who came from these parts, and wished to know 
what kind of constituents they had. These considera¬ 
tions, in addition to my physician’s advice to travel a 
little for my health, induced me to leave Washington on 
the 25th day of April, 1834, and steer for the North. 

I arrived the same evening at Barnum’s Hotel, in Bal¬ 
timore. Uncle Davy, as he is often called, was right 
glad to see me, perhaps, because we were namesakes; or 

may-be he always likes to see folks patronize his house 

(171) 


172 


CROCKETT TRAVELS NORTH. 


lie lias a pleasant face, any hcrw, and his acts don't belie 
it. No one need look for better quarters ; if they do, it 
will be because they don’t know when they are satis¬ 
fied. 

Shortly after I arrived, I was called upon and asked 
to eat supper with a number of gentlemen. I went and 
passed the evening pleasantly with my friend Wilkes and 
others. 

Early next morning, I started for Philadelphia, a 
place where I had never been. I sort of felt lonesome 
as I went down to the steamboat. The idea of going 
among a new people, where there are tens of thousands 
who would pass me by without knowing or caring who I 
was, who are all taken up with their own pleasures or 
their own business, made me feel small; and, indeed, if 
any one who reads this book has a grand idea of his own 
importance, let him go to a big city, and he will find that 
he is not higher valued than a coon-skin. 

The steamboat was the Carroll of Carrollton, a fine 
craft, with the rum old commodore Chaytor for head 
man. A good fellow he is—all sorts of a man—bowing 
and scraping to the ladies, nodding to the gentlemen, 
cursing the crew, and his right eye broad-cast upon the 
“ opposition line,” all at the same time. “ Let go!” 
Baid the old one, and off w T e walked in prime style. 

We immediately came past Fort McHenry, justly cel¬ 
ebrated for its gallant defence under Armistead, Stew¬ 
art, Nicholson, Newcomb, and others, during the last 
w T ar ; and shortly after we passed North Point, where 
the British landed to make, what they never dared, an 
attack on Baltimore. 


CROCKETT’S TOAST. 


173 


Our passage down the Chesapeake hay was very plea¬ 
sant; and in a very short run we came to the place 
where we were to get on board of the railroad cars. 

This was a clean new sight to me; about a dozen big 
stages hung on to one machine, and to start up hill. 
After a good deal of fuss, we all got seated and moved 
slowly off, the engine wheezing as if she had the tizzick. 
By-and-by she began to take short breaths, and away wo 
went with a blue streak after us. The whole distance is 
seventeen miles, and it was run in fifty-five minutes. 

While 1 was whizzing along, I burst out a laughing. 
One of the passengers asked me what it was at. “ Why,” 
says I, “it’s no wonder the fellow’s horses run off.” A 
Carolina wagoner had just crossed the rail-road, from 
Charleston to Augusta, when the engine hove in sight 
with the cars attached. It was growing dark, and the 
sparks were flying in all directions. His horses ran off, 
broke his wagon, and smashed his combustibles into 
items. He run to a house for help, and when they asked 
him what scared his horses, he said he did not jist know, 
but it must be hell in harness. 

At Delaware City, I again embarked on board of a 
splendid steamboat, which ran to Philadelphia. 

When dinner was ready, I set down with the rest of 
the passengers; among them was the Rev. 0. B. Brown 
of the Post Office Department, who sat near me. During 
dinner, the parson called for a bottle of wine, and called 
on me for a toast. Not knowing whether he intended to 
compliment me, or abash me among so many strangers, 
or have some fun at my expense, I concluded to go 
ahead, and give him and his likes a blizzard. So our 


174 RECEPTION AT PHILADELPHIA. 

glasses being filled, the word went round, “ a toast from 
Colonel Crockett.” I gave it as follows: “ Here’s wish¬ 
ing the bones of tyrant kings may answer in hell, in 
place of gridirons, to roast the souls of Tories cn.” At 
this the parson appeared as if he was stump’t. I said, 
‘‘Never heed; it was meant for where it belonged.” 
He did not repeat his invitation, and I eat my dinner 
quietly. 

After dinner I went up on the deck, and saw the captain 
hoisting three flags. Says I, “What does that mean?” 
He replied, that he was under promise to the citizens of 
Philadelphia, if I was on board, to hoist his flags, as a 
friend of mine had said he expected I would be along 
soon. 

We went on till we came in sight of the city; and as 
we advanced towards the wharf, I saw the whole face of 
the earth covered with people, all anxiously looking on 
towards the boat. The captain and myself were stand¬ 
ing on the bow-deck; he pointed his finger at me, and 
people slung their hats, and huzzaed for Colonel 
Crockett. It struck me with astonishment, to hear a 
strange people huzzaing for me, and made me feel sort 
of queer. It took me so uncommon unexpected, as 1 
had no idea of attracting attention. But I had to meet 
it, and so I stepped on to the wharf, where the folks 
came crowding around me, saying, “ Give me the hand 
of an honest man.” I did not know what all this meant: 
but some gentleman took hold of me, and pressing 
through the crowd, put me into an elegant barouche, 
drawn by four fine horses; they then told me to 
bow to the people: I did so, and with much difficulty 


CROCKETT'S SPEECH. 


175 


we moved off. The streets were crowded to a great dis¬ 
tance, and the windows full of people, looking out I sup¬ 
posed, to see the wild man. I thought I had rather be 
in the wilderness with my gun and dogs, than to be at¬ 
tracting all that fuss. I had never seen the like before, 
and did not know exactly what to say or do. After 
some time we reached the United States Hotel in Ches- 
nut Street. 

The crowd had followed me, filling up the street, and 
pressing into the house to shake hands. I was con¬ 
ducted up stairs, and walked out on a platform, drew off 
my hat, and bowed round to the people. They cried 
out from all quarters, “A speech, a speech, Colonel 
Crockett.” 

After the noise had quit, so I could be heard, I said 
to them the following words: 

“ Gentlemen of Philadelphia :—My visit to your 
city is rather accidental. I had no expectation of at¬ 
tracting any uncommon attention. I am traveling for 
my health, without the least wish of exciting the people 
in such times of high political feeling. I do not wish to 
encourage it. I am unable at this time to find language 
suitable to return my gratitude to the citizens of Phila¬ 
delphia. However, I am almost induced to believe it 
flattery—perhaps a burlesque. This is new to me, yet 1 
see nothing but friendship in your faces; and if your 
curiosity is to hear the backwoodsman, I will assure you 
I am illy prepared to address this most enlightened peo¬ 
ple. However, gentlemen, if this is a curiosity to you, 
if you will meet me to-morrow, at one o’clock, I will en- 


176 


VISITS THE WATER WORKS. 


leavor to address you in my plain manner.” So I 
made my obeisance to them, and retired into the house. 

After night, when I could walk out unknown, I went 
up street or down, I don’t know wdiich, but took good 
care not to turn any corners, for fear I might get lost. 
I soon found that the streets were laid off square. This I 
thought was queer enough for a Quaker city, for they don’t 
generally come up square to nothing; even their coats 
have a kind of slope, at least so they have cut Mister 
Penn’s coat in the capitol. This may be wrong, too, for 
I was told that when the man who made him, first 
knocked off “ the kivers” of the house where he worked 
at him, he had cut out Mister Penn with a regular built 
continental cocked hat on; and it was so much laughed 
at, to see such a hat on a Quaker, that as soon as Con 
gress rose, he cut off his head, and worked on a new one, 
with a rale sloped broad brim. Which is the honest 
George Fox hat, I leave for Philadelphia lawyers and 
persons to decide. 

When I went to my room, and got to bed, I could not 
sleep, thinking over all that passed, and my promise 
also to speak the next day; but at last I composed my¬ 
self with the reflection that I had got through many a 
scrape before, so I thought I’d trust again to good luck. 

Next morning I had the honor of being called on by 
gome old friends whom I knew at Washington — Judge 
Baldwin, Judge Hemphill, John Sergeant, and others, 
and I took it right kind in them to do so. 

Early after breakfast I was taken to the Water-works, 
where I saw several of the gentlemen managers. This 
is a grand sight, and no wonder the Philadelphians ask 


THE MINT. 


17T 


everyone that comes, “ Have you seen the Water-works V* 
Just think of a few wheels throwing up more water tnan 
live hundred thousand people can use: yes, and waste, 
too; for such scrubbing of steps, and even the very 
j aveinents under your feet, I never saw. Indeed, I 
looked close to see if the house-maids had not web-feet, 
they walked so well in water; and as for a fire, it has 
no chance at all; they just screw on a long hollow 
leather with a brass nose on it, dash up stairs, and seem 
to draw on Noah’s flood. 

The next place I visited was the Mint. Here I saw 
them coining gold and silver in abundance, and they 
were the rale u e pluribus unumnot this electioneering 
trash, that they sent out to cheat the poor people, telling 
them they would all be paid in gold and silver, when the 
poor deceived creatures had nothing coming to them. A 
chip with a spit on the back of it, is as good currency 
as an eagle, provided you can’t get the image of the 
bird. It’s all nonsense. The President, both cabinets 
and Congress to boot, can’t enact poor men into rich. 
Hard knocks, and plenty of them, can only build up a 
fellow’s self. 

I asked if the workmen never stole any of the coin. 
They said not: they got used to it. Well, I thought 
that was what my parson would call heterodox doctrine , 
that the longer a man was in temptation, the more ho 
would not sin. But I let it pass, for I had heard that 
they had got “ new lights” in this city, and, of course, 
new and genuine doctrines — so that the Bible-doxv 
fctood no chance. I could not help, barring the doctrine, 
g.ving these honest men great credit; especially when 
12 


173 


INSANE ASYLUM. 


I recollected an old sanctimoniouslyfied fellow, who mads 
his negroes whistle while they were picking cherries, for 
tear they should eat some. 

From the Mint I was taken to the Asylum for insane 
peisons, went through different apartments, saw men 
and women, some quite distracted, others not so bad. 
This was a very unpleasant sight. I am not able, nor 
do I wish I was able, to describe it. I felt monstrous 
solemn, and could not help thanking God I was not one 
of them; and I felt grateful in their stead to that city 
for caring for those who could not take care of them¬ 
selves, and feeding them that heeded not the hand and 
heart that provided for them. 

On returning to the hotel, the hour had nearly arrived 
when I was to visit the Exchange. I asked Colonel 
Dorrance, the landlord, to go with me. He is a very 
clever man, and made me feel quite at home in his house. 
Whoever goes there once, will go back again. So he 
agreed, and off we started. 

I had made set speeches in Congress, and especially 
on my Tennessee land bill, when all my colleagues were 
against me; I had made stump speeches at home, in the 
face of all the little office yelpers who were opposed to 
me; but, indeed, when I got within sight of the Ex¬ 
change, and saw the streets crowded, I most wished to 
take back my promise ; but I was brought up by hearing 
a youngster say, as I passed by, “ Go ahead, Davy 
Crockett.” I said to myself, “ I have faced the enemy; 
these are friends. I have fronted the savage red man 
of the forest; these are civilized. I’ll keep cool, and 
let them have it.” 


SPEECH AT THE EXCHANGE. 


179 


I was conducted to the house of a Mr. Neil; where 1 
met several gentlemen, and took some refreshment, not 
passing by a little Dutch courage. Of the latter there 
was plenty; and I observed the man of the house, when 
he asked me to drink, he didn’t stand by to see what I 
took, but turned away, and told me to help myself. 
That’s what I call genteel. 

Arrived at the Exchange, I crowded through, went 
up to the second floor, and walked out on the porch, 
drew off my hat, and made my bow; speaking was out 
of the question, the huzzas for Crockett were so loud 
and so long. 

The time had come when my promise must be kept. 
There must have been more than five thousand people, 
and they were still gathering from all parts. I spoke 
for about half an hour. 

Three times three cheers closed the concern, and 1 
came down to the door, where it appeared as if all the 
world had a desire to shake hands with me. I stood on 
the door-step, and, as Major Jack Downing said, shook 
hands as hard as I could spring for near an hour. After 
this I returned to the hotel, and remained until night, 
when I was asked to visit the theatre in Walnut street. 
The landlord, Dorrance, and others, w T ere to go with me, 
to see Jim Crow. While we were talking about it, on« 
of them said he could go all over the w^orld “ To erow 
juicy.” Some laughed very hearty, and others did not. 
I was among the latter, for I considered it a dry joke, 
although there was something juicy in it. Some of them 
eaid it w r as Latin : and that rwvod ^ n 


GOES TO THE THEATRE. 


180 

But these Philadelphians are eternally cutting up jokes 
on words; so I puts a conundrum to them; and says I, 
“Can you tell me why the sacking of Jerusalem was 
like a cider-mill ?” Well, they all were stumped, and 
gave it up. “Because it made the Jews fly.” Seeing 
them so much pleased with this, says I, “Why is a cow 
like a razor-grinder?” No one could answer. “Well,” 
sayo I, “I thought you could find that out, for I don’t 
know myself.” 

We started for the theatre, and found a very full 
house, and Jim a playing for the dear life. Jim makes 
as good a nigger as if he was clean black, except the 
bandy legs. 

Everybody seemed pleased, particularly when t 
laughed ; they appeared to act as if I knew exactly whon 
to laugh, and then they all followed. 

What a pity it is that these theatres are not contrived 
that everybody could go ; but the fact is, backwoodsman 
as I am, I have heard some things in them that was a 
leetle too tough for good women and modest men; and 
that’s a great pity, because there are thousands of scenes 
of real life that might be exhibited, both for amusement 
and edification, without offending. Folks pretend to 
say that high people don’t mind these things. Well, it 
may be that they are better acquainted with vice than 
we plain folks; but I am yet to live and see a woman 
polished out of the natural feelings, or too high not to 
do things that ain’t quite reputable in those of low 
degree. 

Their fiddling was pretty good, considering every 
fellow played his own piece; and I would have known 


PRESENTS PROM FRIENDS. 


181 


more about it, if they had played a tune, but it was all 
twee-wee-tadlum-tadlum-tum-tum, tadle-leedle-tadle-lee- 
dle-lee. The “ Twenty-second of February,” or the 
“ Cuckoo’s Nest,” would have been a treat. 

I do not think, however, from all I saw, that the 
people enjoyed themselves better than we do at a country 
frolic, where we dance till daylight, and pay off the 
score by giving one in our turn. It would do you good 
to see our boys and girls dancing. None of your strad- 
ling, mincing, sadying; but a regular sifter, cut-the- 
buckle, chicken-flutter set-to. It is good wholesome ex¬ 
ercise ; and when one of our boys puts his arm round his 
partner, it is a good hug, and no harm in it. 

Next morning I was waited on by some gentlemen, 
who presented me with a seal for my watch-chain, which 
cost forty dollars. I told them I always accepted a 
present, as a testimony of friendship. The engraving on 
the stone represents the great match race, two horses in 
full speed, and over them the words “ Go ahead.” It is 
the finest seal I ever saw; and when I returned to Wash¬ 
ington, the members almost used it up, making copies to 
Bend all over the country. 

I was hardly done making my bow to these gentlemen, 
before Mr. James M. Sanderson informed me that the 
young wliigs of Philadelphia had a desire to present me 
with a fine rifle, and had chosen him to have her made 
agreeable to my wishes. I told him that was an article 
that I knew somewhat about, and gave him the size, 
weight, &c. 

You can’t imagine how I was crowded to get through 
every thing. Colonel Pulaski called to take me in his 


182 


VISIT TO THE NAVY YARD* 


carriage to the Naval Hospital, where they stow away 
the old sailors on dry land, and a splendid building it is; 
all made of marble. I did not like the situation: but I 
suppose it was the best they could get, with so much 
ground to it. 

From there we went to the Navy Yard, and examined 
the largest ship ever made in the. United States. She 
was what they called “ in the stocks.” 

I then surveyed the artillery, and the balance of the 
shipping, not forgetting to pay my respects to the officers 
of the yard, and then returned home with the colonel, 
where I was kindly treated, both in eating and drinking; 
and so ended another day. 

The next morning the land admiral, Colonel Reeside, 
asked me to call on him and take a ride. I did so ; and 
fie carried me out to the rail-road and Schuylkill bridge. 
I found that the rail-road was finished near a hundred 
miles into the interior of the State, and is only one out 
of many; and yet they make no fuss about it. 

We drove in past the Girard school—that old man 
that gave so many millions to Philadelphia, and cut out 
his kin with a crumb. Well, thinks I, blood is thicker 
than water, and the remembrance of friends better than a 
big name. I’d have made them all rich, and give away the 
balance. But, maybe, French people don’t think like me. 

This being my last night in Philadelphia, Dorrance 
gave me what they call a “pick knick” supper; which 
means as much as me and all my company could eat and 
drink, and nothing to pay. 

I had forgot to say that I had spent part of the even¬ 
ing before this with Colonel Saint. 


CHAPTER XIX. 


Colonel Crockett starts for New York—The passage-—G rand recep¬ 
tion— Committee of young wliigs invite him to go to the American 
Hotel—Goes to the Park Theatre—Sees Fanny Kemble—His 
opiniou of that actress—'The colonel goes to a tire—Makes a speech 
at the Exchange—Goes to Peale’s Museum and the City Hall— 
Dines with Col. Draper—Invited to a supper by the Young Whigs 
—Has a ride with Col. Jackson—Visits the five Points—His 
opinion of the strange sights there—Introduced to Albert Gallatin 
—Preparations for building the Astor House—Celebration at the 
Battery—General Morton—Gideon Lee—Castle Garden—Goes to 
the Bowery r l'neatre—Colonel Mapes—Grant Thorburn—Rifle 
Shooting—The Colonel gives a Specimen. 

Next morning, Wednesday the 29th, I was invited by 
Captain Jenkins, of the steamboat New Philadelphia, to 
go on with him to New York, I accepted his offer and 
started. I saw nothing very particular along the Dela¬ 
ware river, except the place where all the hard stone 
coal comes to, from the interior of Pennsylvania; where, 
I am told, they have mountains of it. After some time, 
we got upon a rail-road wdiere they say we run twenty- 
five miles to the hour. I can only judge of the speed by 
putting my head out to spit, which I did and overtook it 
so quick that it hit me smack in the face. We soon 
arrived at Amboy, and took the water again; and soon 
came in sight of the great city of New York, and a bulger 

( 183 ) 


184 


RECEPTION IN NEW YORK. 


of a place it is. The number of the ships beat me all 
hollow, and looked for all the world like a big clearing 
in the West, with the dead trees all standing. 

When we swung round to the wharf, it was covered 
with people, who inquired if I was on board; and when 
the captain told them I was, they slung their hats and 
gave three cheers. 

Immediately a committee came on board, representing 
the young whigs, and informed me they were appointed 
to wait upon me, and invite me to the American Hotel. 
I accepted their offer, and went with them to the hotel, 
where I was friendly received; conducted to a large par¬ 
lor, where I was introduced to a great many gentlemen. 

I was invited to visit the new and elegant fire-engine, 
and took some refreshment with the managers, and re¬ 
turned in time to visit the Park theatre, and see Miss 
Fanny Kemble play in grand style. The house was 
better filled, and the fixings looked nicer than the one in 
Philadelphia; but any of them is good enough, if they 
have such pretty play-actors as Miss Kemble. In fact, 
she is like a handsome piece of changeable silk ; first one 
color, then another, but always the clean thing. 

I returned home, as I am told all great folks do, after 
the lady actor was done; and, sitting with my friends, 
the cry of “fire, fire,” struck my ear. I bounced from 
my chair, and ran for my hat. “ Sit down, colonel,” 
said one of the gentlemen, “it’s not near us.” A’n’t 
you going to help put it out?” “No,” said he, laugh¬ 
ing, “ we have fire companies here, and -we leave it to 
them.” Well, to me this seemed queer enough, for at 


VISITS THE NEWSPAPER OFFICES. 


185 


home I would have jumped on the first horse at hand, 
and rode full flight bare-backed, to help put out a fire. 

I forgot that I was in a city where you may live, as 
they tell me, years, and not know who lives next door to 
you: still, I felt curious to see how they managed; 
and Colonel Jackson went with me. As it was late, the 
engines were only assembling when we got there ; but 
when they began to spirt, they put out a four story house 
that was all in a blaze, in less than no time. I asked 
the colonel where they got so much water from. He 
said it was raised by the Manhattan Bank, out of a 
charter got by Aaron Burr. 

Next morning I was invited by Colonel Mapes to walk 
down to some of the newspaper offices, I proposed to go 
to the Courier and Enquirer and Star offices : we did so. 
I like Webb, for he comes out plump with what he has 
to say. Mr. Noah has another way of using a fellow up: 
he holds him uneasy; laughs at him, and makes other 
folks do so; teazes him ; roasts him, until he don’t know 
what ails him, nor what hurt him, but he can’t help 
limping. 

We went into Pearl street; and I could not help won¬ 
dering if they had as many boxes and bags and things 
inside of the houses as they had out. Elegant place for 
a lame man to walk, for every one is like him- -first up, 
then down; then one side, then another, like a pet in a 
squirrel box. Shortly we came to the Exchange—the 
place where the merchants assemble every day at one 
o’clock, to hear all they can, and tell as little as possible: 
and where two lines from a knowing correspondent, pm 
Gently used, may make a fortune. 


186 


SPEECH AT NEW YORK EXCHANGE. 


I had net been long here before I was surrounded, and 
called on for a speech. I made many apologies, but 
none seem’d to hit right; and was so hard pressed, that 
l had no corner to get into: so, taking my stand upon 
the steps above them, I spoke awhile. 

I returned to the hotel, where I found a great many 
gentlemen waiting to see the wild man from the far West. 
After spending some time with them, I was taken to 
Peale’s museum. I shall not attempt to describe the 
curiosities here ; it is above my bend. I could not help, 
however, thinking what pleasure or curiosity folks could 
take in sticking up whole rows of little bugs, and such 
like varmints. I saw a boy there that had been born 
without any hands or arms ; and he took a pair of scissors 
in his toes, and cut his name in full, and gave it to me. 
This I called a miracle. 

From thence I went to the City Hall, and was intro¬ 
duced to the mayor of the city and several of the aider- 
men. The mayor is a plain, common-sense-looking man. 
I was told he had been a tanner : that pleased me; for I 
thought both him and me had dumb up a long way from 
where we had started: and it is truly said, “ Honor and 
fame from no condition rise.” It’s the grit of a fellow 
that makes the man. 

On my return, I received an invitation from Colonel 
Draper to dine with him, informing me also, that the rale 
Major Jack Downing was expected to be there. When 
the hour arrived, I started to walk there, as it was but a 
short distance. On my way I saw a white man who was 
in a great rage, cursing a white man-servant. I stopped, 
and said to him, “ Hellow, mister ! if you was to talk 


DINNER WITH COLONEL DRAPER. 


18T 


that way to a white man in my country, he’d give you 
first rate hell.” He looked at me and said nothing, but 
walked off. Sure enough, when I got to Colonel Dra¬ 
per’s I was introduced to the major. We sat down to a 
splendid dinner, and amused ourselves with some good 
jokes. But as this was a private party, I don’t think it 
gentlemanly to tell what w r as said at this time, and espe¬ 
cially as this was not the only communication I had with 
the major. One observation, however, was made by him, 
and I gave him an answer which could not offend any¬ 
body. “ Colonel,” says he, “ what d’ye sort o’think 
about gineral matters and things in purticlur ?” Know¬ 
ing him to be a Yankee, I tried to answer him in his own 
way. So says I, “ Major, the Ginneral’s matters are all 
wrong; but some purticklar things are very well: such, 
for instance, as the honor I have in dining with you at 
Colonel Draper’s.” “Good,” says the major, “and 
we’ll talk about them there matters some other time.” 
“Agreed,” says I, “ major, always at your sarvice.” 

I found a large company waiting for me when I got 
back to the hotel, and invitation to sup with the young 
Whigs. Well, now, thinks I, they had better keep some 
of these things to eat for somebody else, for I’m sure I’m 
as full as a young cub. But right or wrong, I must go 
in. There I met the honorable Augustus S. Clayton, 
of Georgia, and was right glad to see him, for I knew I 
could get him to take some of the speaking off of me. 
He speaks prime, and is always ready, and never goes 
off half-cock. 

Upwards of one hundred sat down to supper. They 
were going to toast me, but I told some of them near ma 


183 


WHIG SUPPER. 


to toast Judge Clayton first; that there should be more 
rejoicing over one that was lost and found again, than 
over ninety and nine such as me, that had never strayed 
away. They did so ; and he made a speech that fairly 
made the tumblers hop. He rowed the Tories up and 
over Salt River. 

Then they toasted me as “ the undeviating supporter 
of the constitution and laws.” I made a short speech, 
and concluded with the story of the “Red Cow,” which 
was, that as long as General Jackson went straight, I 
followed him; but when he began to go this way, and 
that way, and every way, I wouldn’t go after him; like 
the boy whose master ordered him to plough across the 
field to the red cow. Well, he began to plough and she 
began to walk; and he ploughed all forenoon after her. 
So when the master came, he swore at him for going so 
crooked. “Why, sir,” said the boy, “you told me to 
plough to the red cow, and I kept after her, but she al¬ 
ways kept moving.” 

Next morning being the first day of May, I went to 
some of the newspaper offices, read the news, and re¬ 
turned to take a ride with Colonel S. D. Jackson, in an 
elegant barouche. We drove up to the city, and took a 
view of the improvements and beautiful houses in the 
new part. By the time we returned down Broadway, it 
seemed to me that the city was flying before some awful 
calamity. “ Why,” said I, “ Colonel, what under hea- 
is the matter ? Everybody appears to be pitching out 
their furniture, and packing it off.” He laughed, and 
said this was the general “ moving day.” Such a sight 
nobody ever saw unless it was in this same city. It 


VISITS THE FIVE POINTS. 


189 


Beemed a kind of frolic, as if they were changing Houses 
just for fun. Every street was crowded with carts, 
drays, and people. So the world goes. It would take a 
good deal to get me out of my log-house ; but here, I 
understand, many persons “ move ” every year. 

Having alighted, and taken some refreshment, I asked 
Colonel Webb to go with to the “ Five Points,’' a noted 
place near the centre of the city. This is the place 
where Van Buren’s warriors came from during the elec¬ 
tion, when the wild Irish, with their clubs and bludgeons, 
knocked down every one they could find that would not 
huzza for Jackson. However, I had a great curiosity 
to see them; and on we went, the major and me, and in 
the midst of that great City we came to a place where 
five streets all come together; and from this it takes the 
name of the “ Five Points.” The buildings are little, 
old, frame houses, and looked like some little country 
village. The houses all had cellars; and as that day 
was fashionable to move, they were moving too. The 
streets looked like a clearing , in my part of the world, 
as they were emptying and burning the straw out of their 
beds. It appeared as if the cellars were jam full of peo¬ 
ple ; and such fiddling and dancing nobody ever before 
6aw in this world. I thought they were the true “ hea¬ 
ven-borns.” Black and white, white and black, all hug- 
emsnug together, happy as lords and ladies, sitting some¬ 
times round in a ring, with a jug of liquor between them: 
and 1 do think I saw more drunken folks, men and wo¬ 
men, that day than I ever saw before. This is part of 
what is called by the Regency the “glorious sixth 
ward”—the regular Van Buren ground-floor. I thought 


190 


THE FIVE POINTS. 


1 would rather risk myself in an Indian fight than ven¬ 
ture among these creatures after night. I said to the 
colonel, “ God deliver me from such constituents, or from 
a party supported by such. In my country, when you 
meet an Irishman, you find a first rate gentleman ; but 
these are worse than savages; they are too mean to swab 
hell’s kitchen.” He took me to the place where the elec¬ 
tion was held. It appeared to me that all the place 
round was made ground, and that there was more room in 
the houses under ground than above: and I suppose there 
must have been a flood of rain during the election, which 
forced those rats out of their holes. There is more people 
stowed aw T ay together here than any place I ever saw. I 
heard a story, and it is asserted to be true, that about here, 
some years ago, a committee visited all the houses, to 
see how they were coming on. One house, that was four 
stories high, and four rooms on a floor, had sixteen fa¬ 
milies in it, and four in the garret, which was divided 
into four parts by a streak of charcoal. An old lady, 
that was spinning up there, was asked how they made 
out. She said, pretty well; and that they would be 
quiet enough if it was not for the old woman in the op¬ 
posite corner, and she took boarders, and they often 
made a noise. I believe it is true. What a miserable 
place a city is for poor people : they are half starved, 
poorly clothed, and perished for fire I sometimes won¬ 
der they do not clear out to a new country, where every 
skin hangs by its own tail: but I suppose they think an 
hour’s indulgence in vice is sweet enough for the bitter 
of the rest. 

Coming home, I took notice that the rear of the City 


ALBERT GALLATIN. 


191 

Hall was of brown stone, while the front and sides were 
of white marble. I asked the Colonel why that was so 
He said the Poor House stood behind when they built 
the Hall. That is like many a great man : if he gets a 
fine breast to his jacket, he will make the back of fus¬ 
tian—and like thousands of great people, who think that 
any thing will do for poor folks to look at, or eat, or 
wear. Another thing seemed queer to me, and that was 
a bell hanging outside of the steeple of the Hall. It was 
so big that they could not get it in, and rather than lose 
the money, they hung it outside; never reflecting that 
even a backwoodsman must laugh at such a Dutch blun¬ 
der. 

On the same walk I was introduced to the honorable 
Albert Gallatin. He had an old straw hat in his hand, 
and like every body else, was “mooving,” and said he 
was sorry not to have more time to be acquainted with 
me. He pointed to the house he was leaving, and s'*.id 
it and several others were to be torn down to build a big 
tavern. It was a very fine house, fit for any man to live 
in; but in a few hours I saw men on the top of it, and 
before the next evening the daylight was through it. 
This tavern is to be near the park, and is building by 
John Jacob Astor. It is to cost seven hundred thousand 
dollars, and covers a whole square. Mr. Astor, I am 
told, begun business in New York as a dealer in furs, 
and is now worth millions. Lord help the beavers and 
otters ! they must have most got used to getting skinned 
by this time. And what a meeting of friends and kin 
there must have been in his warehouse. “Farewell,” 
taid the otter to the beaver, “ I never expect to see ym» 


192 


GENERAL MORTON. 


again, my dear old friend.” “ Never mind, my dear fel¬ 
low,” said the beaver, “ don’t be too much distressed, 
We’ll soon meet at the hatter’s shop.” 

This day a new flag was to be hoisted, down on the 
Battery, and I was invited to attend. The artillery, 
under command of General Morton, paraded; and he 
invited many of his friends to be present: among the 
rest, the mayor, Gideon Lee, was there, and addressed 
the people. Among other things he told them that that 
flag-staff was placed where the old one stood when the 
British evacuated New York; that they left the flag fly¬ 
ing, and greased the pole, so that it could not be dim 
up ; but at last a sailor got up and tore it down, and 
hoisted the American flag in its place; and when he 
came down, the people filled his hat with money. 

General Morton is a revolutioner, and an officer in the 
society of old soldiers, called the “ Cincinnati Society,” 
and wears its badge on his breast. He gave an entertain¬ 
ment to his friends on this occasion ; for you must know 
that nobody thinks any thing well done in this place, 
without eating and drinking over it. 

This battery a’n’t a place, as its name looks like, for 
keeping and shooting off cannon. It might have been 
so, long ago ; but it is a beautiful meadow of a place, all 
measured off, with nice walks of gravel between the grass 
plats, full of big shade-trees, and filled with people and a 
great many children, that come there to get the fresh air 
that comes off the water of the bay. This is a beautiful 
place; and you can see Long Island, and Staten Island, 
and many others from it. Here is likewise Castle Gar¬ 
den, and the bridge that Van Bur on wanted to drown 


GOES TO THE THEATRE. 


193 


tL<t presilerit off of, when him and Major Jack most fell 
in. The fact is, the plan was well enough, hut General 
Jackson did not know of it. It was concluded, you see, 
that the president should make all his big secretaries and 
Colonel Reeside go before, and him come after; and then 
slam should go the bridge, with the old fellow on it. But 
he went foremost, and when it fell, they didn’t catch any 
but Governor Cass, secretary of war; and he only lost 
his hat and wig, which they say the porpusses carried 
off and gave to the sea serpent, so that he might be on 
their side in the next oyster war. 

After all this, I went that same day to see my young 
friend Walden, and enjoyed myself with some friends till 
evening. 

When I got back to the hotel, I found the bill for the 
Bowery theatre; and it stated I was to be there. Now 
I knew I had never given the manager any authority to 
use my name, and I determined not to go. After some 
time, I was sent for, and refused; and then the head 
manager came himself. I told him I did not come for a 
show; I did not come for the citizens of New York to 
look at, I come to look at them. However, my friends 
said it would be a great disappointment, and might harm 
the managers; and so I went, and was friendly received. 
I remained a short time, and returned. So ended the 
first day of May, 1834; and I should like to see any 
body who saw more sights in once waking up. In fact, 
when I got to bed and begun to think them over, I found 
it would take me to daylight; so I just broke off, and 
went to sleep. 

Next morning, Colonel Mapes told me he was requested 
. 13 


194 


RIFLE SHOOTING. 


to invite me to come over to Jersey City, to see some 
shooting with a rifle. In the mean tim«, I had been 
very kindly invited by Captain Comstock to go that day. 
at half-past three o’clock, with him to Boston. I con¬ 
cluded to go, as I might never have another opportunity, 
and it took only eighteen hours to go there. 

I went with the colonel to see little Thawhurn’s* seed 
store; and a great place it is, for he has got all kinds 
of things there; and for fear his bird-seed should not 
be fresh, he keeps a few hundred birds to eat it up in 
short order; and to prove that his flower-seed is prime, 
he keeps thousands of little pots growing, and mostly 
gits five times as much for the proof as he does for the 
seed. He is a little, old, weezened-up man, talks broad 
Scotch, and is as active as a terrier dog, 

I now started to Jersey City, where I found a great 
many gentlemen shooting rifles, at the distance of one 
hundred yards with a rest. One gentleman gave me his 
gun, and asked me to shoot. I raised up, off-hand, and 
cut within about two inches of the centre. I told him 
my distance was forty yards, off-hand. He loaded his 
gun, and we walked down to within forty yards, when 1 
fired, and was deep in the paper. I shot a second time, 
and did the same. Colonel Mapes then put up a quarter 
of a dollar in the middle of a black spot, and asked me 
to shoot at it. I told him he had better mark the size 
of it and put his money in his pocket. He said, “ Fire 
away.” I did so, and made slight-of-hand work with 
his quarter. It was now time to return, and prepare for 
my trip to Boston. 

# Thorburn, the or'ginal of Gault’s “ Lowrie Tc4d,” 


CHAPTER XX. 


The Colonel starts for Boston—Passes Hell Gate, and Point Judft— 
First impressions of New England scenery—Captain Silsbee—Ar* 
rives at Tremont House—Mr. Boyden—Visit to the gallery of the 
artists, Chester Harding—Sits for his portrait—Faneuil Hall- 
General Davis—Quincy Market—India Rubber Factory—Colonel 
Perkins—Carpet Factory—Sups with the young Whigs—Bunker 
Hill—Whig Dinner—Chantrey’s statue of Washington—Asylum 
for the Blind. 

At three o’clock I left the hotel, and went over to 
where the steamboat lay. When I went on board, the 
captain showed me into a splendid state-room, which I 
was to occupy for the voyage. So, when I had made 
toilet (as great folks say), that is, combed my hair, and 
taken a glass of brandy and water, I went on deck. 
There I saw almost as many people as were when I 
landed; and they kept gathering until the whole ground 
was covered; and when we started, they cheered me for 
some time; and all I could do was to stand and bow to 
them. This brought me into new trouble; for the pas¬ 
sengers found I was on board, and came round me, so 
tlat I missed seeing the city until we got past it. 

Soon, however, we came to the place called Hell’s 
Gate; so called, I suppose, because the water boils, and 
foams, and bounces, about as if it was in a pot. I don’t 

think, however, that this is a good name for it, becauso 

(195j 


i96 


HELL GATE. 


we are told in the good book, that hell’s gate is a mighty 
slick place, and easy to get into. Here I first saw a 
large square-sailed British merchant ship, under full sail. 
She was coming in through the channel, and I was glad 
to see that, for when we were voting for an appropria¬ 
tion for a fort to defend this place, I heard it said that 
no foreign ship ever attempted coming in that way. But. 
these are the kind of arguments used most generally by 
those who oppose internal improvements, harbors, &c., 
&c.; they fancy things, and speak them for truth. 

We went on very pleasantly till night; and the captain 
told me if I would rise at daylight, we would be out of 
sight of land. So I went to bed, and rose as soon as I 
could see. I walked out on deck, and sure enough, 
there was no land to be seen. We were coming near 
Fort Juda, a place where, the captain informed me, peo 
pie on board was often very sea-sick. So I set myself 
down for a case, but was disappointed; it was quite 
calm, and a clear fine morning, and when the sun rose, 
it came up like a ball of fire out of the water, and looked, 
for all the world, as if it had been made for the first 
time. We went around Point Juda, and kept in sight 
of land on our left hand. There was very little timber 
to be seen; the whole country appeared to be laid off in 
fields, divided by stone fences. These were a great 
curiosity to me, and I could not help thinking that their 
cattle must be well schooled here; for one of my cows 
would pitch over a dozen such fences, without flirting her 
tail. 

We went by the great fort at the Naragauset bay, and 
landed at Newport for a short time. From thence 


NEW ENGLAND. 


197 


took our way again tc Providence. There I met a largo 
number of the citizens. They cheered me on my arrival, 
and wanted me to stay and partake of a dinner with 
them. I declined, and took my seat in the fast stage. 
The driver was ordered to go ahead, and sure enough he 
did. It was forty miles to Boston, and we run it down 
in four hours. 

What mighty hard land it is on this road, and seems 
as if the whole face of the earth had been covered over 
with stones, as thick as Kentuck land titles; but they 
have got them strung up into fences, as many as they 
can, by picking of them off; but they won’t stay picked, 
for every time they plough, a new crop comes up. 

It was somewhere away long here that the pilgrims 
landed at Plymouth, and begun to people this part of the 
world; and a hard time they must have had of it in this 
barren country; and it seems odd that they should come 
all the way across the sea, and not look out for good 
land. However, I suppose it was all right, or God would 
have given them better pilots. If they had had fine 
land, they would not have ventured so much on the 
ocean, and would have had less necessity to work hard, 
and bring up their children to industry, and give them 
each cute teaching as makes them know how to make 
ducks and drakes of us out yonder, when they come 
among us. 

You would be as much struck as I was with the hand 
some houses and nice farms; but when I came to find 
all out, I didn’t wonder so much. This was Captain A, 
and that B’s, house; and they made money on sea, and 
spent it on land; that’s the truth; for Adam himself 


198 


TREMONT HOUSE. 


could not have made it out of the land. So I found out 
that the most of them owned a little plantation on shore, 
and the run of the sea to work on besides. 

One of the passengers, who came from beyond Boston, 
while we were talking over these things, asked me if 1 
knew Captain Silsbee. I told him no. “ I guess ycu 
do,” says he, “ he’s our senator in Congress; but to 
home, we old folks call him captain.” I told him, cer¬ 
tainly I did, but never knew him by that title. “ Well, 
we know that none on ’em boxed a compass longer nor 
better, and he made a power of money, and during the 
last war planked up more gold and silver to lend the 
government than Benton ever counted.” 

But I must quit philosophy, and tell you where I 
stopped in Boston—and that was just where any one 
that has plenty of cash, and plenty of good-will for 
pleasure, would like—in a clean street, with a tavern on 
one side, and the theatre on the other, and both called 
Tremont. Mr. Boyden did not know me, nor me him ; 
but when I told him my name, where they put it on the 
bar-book, he treated me like an old friend, and continued 
to do so all the time I was there. He gave me a good 
room and nice bed; and did not, like many landlords, 
let a stranger take care of himself, but attended to me 
the kindest in the world. I had seen a great many fine 
taverns; but take this out and out, and Tremont House 
is a smart chance ahead. It is lately built, and has 
every new arrangement; and for a house with a couple 
of hundred people about it, is the quietest I ever was 
in. His head man of the gap, in the bar, lias eyes all 
round him ; and Will Scarlet, as he is called by a friend 


BOSTON HOSPITALITY 


199 


of mine, lists the sound of every bell in the house by 
heart. When I arrived, I knew no one, but in a short 
time I made many acquaintances, and, indeed, was very 
kindly treated by every person I met. There is a great 
deal of friendly feeling with the eastern people; and 
folks need not go out of Boston to find rale hospitality. 

Next morning I was invited by Mr. Harding to visit 
his gallery of paintings, where he had a great many 
specimens of the fine arts; and finally he asked me to 
sit for him until he could get my likeness, which I did, 
during my stay, and he has it now, hung up among the 
rest of the fine arts. From there I went to Faneuii 
Hall, where General Davis showed me all the accoutre¬ 
ments of ivar for several companies of infantry and 
riflemen, that was deposited in it. These are in snug 
rooms on each side of the second story; and in the 
middle is the parade-room, where, summer and winter, 
the companies meet to drill. This is doing things in 
true style, that is all for use, and no show about it. So, 
instead of hearing a great fuss with volunteers, and 
drilling, and all that, wheeling and marching, handle 
cartridge, eyes right—you see a squad of fine soldiers 
coming out of this same place, and squared up as if they 
were the rale breed. 

General Davis informed me this was the house that 
was called the “ cradle of liberty.” I reckon old king 
George thought they were thundering fine children that 
was rocked in it, and a good many of them; and that 
no wonder his red-coats were licked, when the children 
came out with soldier clothes on, and muskets in their 


200 


QUINCY MARKET. 


hands. God grant that the libertj-tree hough on whicii 
this cradle rocks may never break. 

From here I went to the market, which is a small cir¬ 
cumstance ahead of anything I ever saw, and just where 
it should be. Now, in Philadelphia, it looks like a long 
feeding-trough, stuck up in the middle of the city. 
And how d’ye think it was done ? Why, they put a 
man of head in, as mayor, who laid all his plans, counted 
the cost, cyphered out the profits, and so forth, and then 
made one pitch right “ahead:” and before the ninnies 
and scarey folks had half done telling their long stories 
about the dreadful expense, Mayor Quincy’s hammers 
were keeping time on the big granite stones, and the 
beautiful pillars were rising up as if he had just ordered 
Miem. In this market-house everything looks like so 
many different shops or stores, and you are quite in¬ 
doors, instead of sellers and buyers both being exposed 
to wet, heat, and cold. The market appeared to be 
abundantly supplied, but, as I thought, rather dear. 

After returning home, I was invited over to Roxbo- 
rough, where they make the Indian-rubber clothing, 
shoes, &c. This is done by dissolving the rubber, and 
putting it on silk and other cloth, which entirely turns 
the rain, and still is pliable, and not heavy. The pro¬ 
prietor made me a present of a hunting coat, which I 
have tried, and would risk my powder under it for forty 
days and nights. It was a great curiosity to see the 
young ladies cutting out the clothes, and sticking them 
together without sewing them. I went also through the 
shoe factory, where they make shoes in the same way 
without stitching them. I could not help thinking of 


COLONEL PERKINS. 


201 


the Philadelphia girls—thought they ought to have them, 
to keep their feet dry. 

We often wonder how things are made so cheap among 
the Yankees. Come here, and you will see women doing 
men’s work, and happy and cheerful as the day is long, 
and why not ? Is it not much better for themselves and 
families, instead of sitting up all day busy about nothing? 
It ain’t hard work, neither, and looked as queer to me 
as it wmuld to one of my countrywomen to see a man 
milking the cows, as they do here. 

After I had seen all that was to be seen here, I was 
taken to Colonel Perkins’ carpet factory. There I saw 
the widest web I ever saw, and they were glossing and 
stamping it in handsome style. I was quite friendly 
received by the colonel. He is said to be a very rich 
man; is quite old, but firm and healthy in appearance; 
and uses his riches in the best possible way—by keeping 
a great many people busy. And he is not one of those 
foolish people, neither, that strive all their days to see 
how rich they can die : for he gives with his hands open. 
I saw one house in Boston which he gave to keep the 
blind in, and was told it was worth fifty thousand dollars. 
What a comfort the old gentleman must have when he 
looks at his great possessions, and is calculating, not 
how much he can hoard up, but how much he can give 
away. God never made such men to be envied, or I 
could begrudge him a few of his blessings from the poor 
and destitute. 

At the invitation of the owners of the Indian-rubber 
factory, I met a number of the citizens of Roxborough, 
and passed a short time with them very pleasantly. 


202 


CROCKETT ON BUNKER’S HILL. 


When I returned to the Tremont, I received an invi¬ 
tation from the young Whigs, to sup with them at eight 
o’clock. I accepted their invitation, and then went over 
to the Navy Yard, at Charlestown. I saw many fine 
ships, and among them was the splendid old Constitu¬ 
tion. She was lying in dry dock, and had been new 
timbered in grand style. The likeness of Andrew 
Jackson was placed on her for a figure-head. I was 
asked if it was a good likeness. I said I had never 
seen him misrepresented; but that they had fixed him 
just where he had fixed himself, that was, before the 
Constitution. 

We then weut up to the old battle-ground on Bunker’s 
hill, where they were erecting a monument to those who 
fell in that day-break battle of our rising glory. I felt 
as if I wanted to call them up, and ask them to tell me 
how to help to protect the liberty they bought for us with 
their blood; but as I could not do so, I resolved on that 
holy ground, as I had done elsewhere, to go for my coun¬ 
try, always and everywhere. 

When I came back from Bunker’s hill, I received 
about a half a dozen invitations from distinguished citi¬ 
zens of Boston, to dine or sup with them, so that it was 
impossible to attend to all of them unless I had the di¬ 
gestion of a cassowary. I must here state that the citi¬ 
zens generally of Boston are uncommon kind and civil; 
and if they understand the art of making money they 
know how to spend it. I was entertained like a prince, 
and could have lived there, I suspect, on the same terms 
for much longer. They appear to me to live generally 
ir New England more snugly, and have more kind feel- 


WHIG DINNER. 


203 


mgs tc one another, and live in more peace and harmony 
than any people I ever was among. And another good 
thing—they don’t forget one another when they are 
among strangers; old New England binds them hard to¬ 
gether ; and this gives them, as it ought to do, strength 
and confidence, and influence ; and with us in the South 
Yankee cunning is assuming the true name—Yankee 
knowledge of business, and perseverance in whatever 
they undertake. 

During the afternoon many gentlemen came to see me, 
and we spent our time pleasantly until the time came for 
me to attend upon the young Whigs. A coach and four 
fine horses was sent for me. This I considered as too 
much honor ; but as I take all things as they come, and 
everything for the best, I stepped into it, and off they 
whirled with the backwoods hunter. Which way they 
drove I did not know, nor did I care. I knew they 
would not eat supper till I got there; and that they 
would not serve me as Lafayette was served at a certain 
place where he was expected to land and dine. The 
steamboat went wrong and he did not arrive; so they eat 
their dinners and took out the frolic. About sundown, 
the boat came up, the orator of the day was called for; 
he was as blind as a pup ; but the moment the old gen¬ 
eral touched the ground, he put at him with abundance 
of welcomes and compliments about his heroism, until he 
got up in the pathetics, when he said, “ Glorious Lafa¬ 
yette, the blood you have shed, and the treasures you 
expended in defence of the liberties of this country, call 
for our gratitude. I want words to convey my ideas; in 


204 


VIEWS THE CITY. 


fact, (striking his hand on his belly instead of his heart) 
I’m to3 full to proceed.” The old gentleman seized his 
hand, gave it a hearty shake, and so the oration ended. 

We came to the appointed place, where I was taken in 
and introduced to about one hundred young gentlemen, 
true chips of the old block, ready to be rocked in the old 
cradle, whether for fight or frolic, war or electioneering. 
They gave me a hearty welcome, and made me feel all as 
one of themselves. So down we sat to an elegant sup¬ 
per, with the best of wines, and the champagne foaming 
up as if you were supping fog out of speaking-trum¬ 
pets. 

After the cloth was removed and several toasts drank, 
they toasted me very warmly. I rose and addressed 
them. 

Early next morning I got up, and my health being 
much improved, I felt just like I was in peace with my¬ 
self and all the world. After breakfast, I took a long 
walk through the city, and passed through the Mall. 
This is a beautiful green of something like forty acres, I 
should judge, and looks refreshing in the midst of a city. 
From the top of the State-house I had a fine view of the 
city, and was quite amused to see the representation of 
a large codfish hung up in the House of Assembly, or 
General Court, as they call it—to remind them either 
that they depended a good deal on it for food, or made 
money by the fisheries. This is quite natural to me, for 
at home I have on one end of my house the antlers of a 
noble buck, and the heavy paws of a bear. 

I did not like the statue of General Washington in the 


CHANTREY’S STATUE. 


205 


State-house. They have a Roman gown* on him, anil he 
was an American ; this ain’t right. They did the thing 
better at Richmond, in Virginia, where they have him 
in the old blue and buff. He belonged to this country— 
heart, soul, and body, and I don’t want any other to 
have any part of him—not even his clothes. 

I return the officers in the State-house my thanks for 
their civility. I can’t remember all their names, and 
therefore I won’t name any of them. 

When I returned to Tremont house, a gentleman in¬ 
vited me to walk with him to the old State-house. 
When I reached that I saw a great crowd. General Da¬ 
vis conducted me into the house, and we went up stairs, 
where there was a platform. I drew off my hat, and 
bowed to the people ; they immediately cheered me, and 
called for a speech which I had to make. 

Here now comes a poser. I was invited to dme out; 
but if I can mind the gentleman’s name I wish I may be 
shot. He lived near Tremont; and I hope, if he has 
curiosity enough to read this here book, that he will write 
me a letter, so that in my second edition, I may give his 
name as large as life, and I beg him to recollect that it, 
ain’t every one that signs a letter that makes himself 
known. Let him write it plain—none of your hierogly¬ 
phics—or I won’t put him in. 

Some would say that they were mortified that they for¬ 
got this gentleman’s name. I ain’t; I’m sorry—but the 


* This is a mistake of the Colonel. Chantrey’s statue of Washing 
ton represents him in the costume of the Revolution with a military 
cloak. 



206 


ASYLUM FOR THE BLIND. 


truth is, I saw so many folks, and so many new 
things, that it’s no wander I should not mind every¬ 
thing. He was a clever fellow, and I know he will for¬ 
give me. 

When I went home, there I met a young man that was 
6tone blind. “Well,” says you, “ that’s no new thing.’* 
Stop, if you please : that puts me in mind of an old par¬ 
son and a scolding woman that belonged to his church. 
She told him, in one of her tantrums, that she could 
preach as well as he could, and he might select the text. 
“ Well,” said the old man, “I’ll give you one, and you 
can study over it — ‘It is better to dwell on the 
house-top than in a wide house with a brawling wo¬ 
man.’ ” “You good-for-nothing, impudent, old—what 
shall I say ? do you go for to call me a brawling 
woman ?” “ Dear mistress,” said the good old man, 

“ you’ll have to study a while longer, for you come to 
the application of the text before you discuss the doc¬ 
trine.” 

Now it was not that I met a blind boy in Tremonl 
house that was any curiosity, but it was his errand. He 
inquired of the barkeeper for me, as I was standing by 
him, and said he was sent by the teacher of the blind, to 
invite me to visit the institution, and that he would show 
me the way. 

I was told by the gentlemen present that he could go 
all over Boston. A gentleman accompanied me, and we 
went on till we came to a fine house where the institution 
was kept. We went, and were introduced to the teach* 
w. He asked me if I wished to hear some of them read 


ASYLUM FOR THE BLIND. 


207 


I said I did, and he ordered a little girl, perhaps ten or 
twelve years old, to get her book, asked her to find a 
certain chapter in the Old Testament, and read it. She 
took up the book and felt with her fingers until she found 
it. He then told her to read, and she did so, with a 
clear, distinct voice. This was truly astonishing ; but on 
examining their books I found that the letters were 
stamped on the under side of the paper, so as to raise 
them above the surface of the upper side; and such was 
the keenness of their touch that, by passing the end of 
the finger over the word, it served them for sight, and 
they pronounced the word. There was a little boy 
learning to cipher in the same way. The teacher put 
several questions to him aloud ; and putting his fingers 
together and working with them for a short time, he an¬ 
swered all the questions correctly. 

That kind of education astonished me more than any¬ 
thing I ever saw. There were a great many of them. 
Some were learning to play on the piano-forte ; and 
many of them were busy making pretty little baskets, 
such as are carried by the ladies. 

They asked me if I would like to hear them sing ; and 
telling them it would please me very much, a number of 
them came up, and some had musical instruments: one 
had a large thing which I never saw before, nor did I ask 
the name; one had a clarionet, and one had a flute. 
They played and sung together beautifully, and, indeed, 
I never saw happier people in my life. I remained some 
time with them going over the establishment. This ia 
the house that I mentioned before was given by ('alouel 


208 


ASYLUM FOR THE BLIND. 


Perkins to the blind. There is not such a grand hous€ 
owned by any person in Washington. What a satisfac¬ 
tion it must be to this old gentleman and others who 
have helped these unfortunates, to see them surrounded 
with so many comforts !* 

* Colonel Thomas Handaside Perkins, the gentleman referred to in 
Colonel Crockett’s narrative, was one of the u merchant princes ” of 
Boston. His liberal donations to public institutions were very nume¬ 
rous. Many years since, he presented an estate worth fifty thousand 
dollars to the Boston Atheneum. The property which he gave to the 
Asylum for the Blind, was valued at fifty thousand dollars ; and it was 
given on condition that the citizens of Boston should raise by subscrip¬ 
tion fifty thousand dollars in thirty days, to be given to the Asylum, 
which condition was promptly complied with. 


CHATTER XXI. 


Colonel Crockett is invited to visit Harvard University—Is afro’d 
they w:il make him a Doctor of Laws, and declines going there— 
Visits the Tremont Theatre—Visit to Lowell—The Colonel is de¬ 
lighted with the Factories and the Factory Girls—His remarks on 
Free Labor—The Sea-serpent—rThe Tariff—The South—Mr. Law¬ 
rence presents the Colonel with a suit of broadcloth of Lowell man¬ 
ufacture, from Mississippi wool—The Colonel dines with the young 
gentlemen of Lowell—New England Hospitality—The Colonel re¬ 
turns to Boston—Spends an evening with Lieutenant Governor 
Armstrong—Returns to Providence, New York, and Philadelphia 
—Visit to Camden, New Jersey—Loses his Pocket-book and mo 
ney—Returns to Baltimore and Washington. 

When I returned, there were some gentlemen that in¬ 
vited me to go to Cambridge, where the big college or 
university is, where they keep ready-made titles or nick 
names to give people. I would not go, for I did not 
know but they might stick an LL. D. on me before they 
let me go ; and I had no idea, of changing “ Member of 
the House of Representatives of the United States,” for 
what stands for “ lazy lounging dunce,” which I am sura 
my constituents -would have translated my new title to 
be, knowing that I had never taken any degree, and did 
not own to any except a small degree of good sense net 
to pass for what I was not— I would not go it. There 
had been one doctor made from Tennessee already, and 

1 had no wish to put on the cap and bells. I recollect 
14 (209) 


210 


THEATRE. 


the story of a would-be-great man who pm on his sign 
after his name, in large capitals, D. Q. M. G., which 
stood for Deputy Quarter Master General; but, which 
one of his neighbors, to the great diversion of all the 
rest, and to his mortification, translated into “ damn’d 
quick made gentleman.” No, indeed, not me—anything 
you please but Granny Crockett; I leave that for others, 
I’ll throw that in to make chuck full the measure of their 
country’s glory. 

I told them I did not go to this branding school; 1 
did not want to be tarred with the same stick ; one dig¬ 
nitary w T as enough from Tennessee ; that as far as my 
learning went, I would stand over it, and spell a strive 
or two with any of them, from a-b-ab to crucifix , wdiich 
was where I left off at school. 

This day I dined out again ; but I’m most tired talk¬ 
ing of dinners, especially after I have eaten them. I 
went to the theatre that night. The acting was pretty 
considerable, considering that one actress, who, it was 
very plain, was either a married woman or “ had ought 
to be,” as they say there, was playing in the character 
of a young lady ; and one fellow tried to sing that was 
not half up to a Mississippi boat horn. 

We got a little dry or so, and v r anted a horn, but this 
was a temperance house, and there was nothing to treat 
a friend to that was worth shaking a stick at, so says I, 
“ When there was a famine in the land of Canaan, there 
was plenty of corn in Egypt; let us go over to the Tre- 
mont, Boyden keeps stuff that runs friends together, and 
makes them forget which is which.” Over we went, and 
soon forgot all about the theatre. 


THE SEA SERPENT. 


211 


I had promised next morning to go to Lowell with Mr. 
^awrence, Mr. Harding, and others; but when I wok a 
up it was pouring down rain, so that kept me in the house 
all day. 

I was not idle, for I had a heap of talk with the folks 
in the house. One gentleman asked me to come and see 
him ; but he gave me so many directions about getting 
tc where he lived that I asked him to write it down, and 
told him if ever he came to my part of the country, I 
hoped he would call and see me. “ Well,” said he, “how 
will I find where you live ?” “ Why, sir, run down the 

Mississippi till you come to the Obion river, run a small 
streak up that, jump ashore anywhere and inquire for 
me.” 

Says I to one of them, “ Do you believe in the sea- 
sarpint ?” “ If I don’t, there’s no snakes. I believe it 

to be as much true as there is lie in our deacon when he says 
his red face ain’t made by drinking ‘New England.’ ” 
“ Do you consider him dangerous, or is he peaceable ?” 
“ Well, now, to keep the truth, I never saw him ; but 
Capting Hodijah Folger said as how he considered the 
critter as a sort o’ so, and a sort o’ not.” “ Had he a 
long tail ?” “ Tail, did you say ? You’d a died to hear 

Didge tell about that verming. Didge said he was like 
skying a copper—head or tail—but you had to guess 
which. Ses Didge to me, ‘Don’t you mind,’ ses ho, 
4 that aro angel what stood with one leg on the sea, and 
t’other on the dry land?’ ‘I guess I do.’ ‘Well,’ ses 
he to me, ‘ that are sarpint’s skin was long enough to a 
queued his hair.’ ” 

I was asked to sup with a Mr. Richards, whom 1 had 


212 


THE SOUTH. 


Been at Washington. He had a house full of ladies and 
gentlemen, collected to see me: so I was on my manners, 
and I hope they were all as much gratified as I was. 
We had a fine supper, plenty of conversation, and some 
fun. I don’t think the northern ladies talk as much 
publicly as they do in the south and west. In private 
conversation they are ready enougn. 

When 1 got back, I saw my old cock again. “ Well,” 
Bays I, “ what do you. think of nullification up here?” 
“Why, they say, some of them, that it was got and 
bred by the tariff. Squire Williams, my neighbor, said 
he didn’t think so: it was a kind of come-by-chance, 
that was too wicked to know its own kin ; and he thought 
it was a very ugly thing.” “Well,” says I to him, 
“ squire, setting a case as how the Congress of Jackson- 
men should pass a law taxing of all the looms and spin¬ 
dles, and letting cottons and woolens come in from 
foreign parts, free of duty — what should we do?” 
“Why, ask ’em to repeal it.” “Suppose they would 
not do it; and when we were growing poorer and poorer, 
the tax-gatherer should come to sell you out, stock and 
fluke.” “Why, I’d dispute his authority desperately; 
and if that would not do, I’d fight him, by the blue 
blazes.” “ And so would I: but ain’t that nullifying, 
or something mighty like it?” “Why,” ses he, “the 
toe that’s tramped on feels most; and a man that don’t 
swear, had better try a stumpy field with a young yoke 
of cattle.” “Well,” ses I, “them there people down 
there fought desperate in the old war. They whipped 
Captain Cornwallis, and scared Sir Harry Clinton out 
fcnd out; and I reckon then no more nor now they don’t 


LOWELL FACTORIES. 


218 


tTk v nobody to wrong them out of their rights. But I’m 
gla.1 it’s all over: and I tell you what I think ; you 
don’t work hard enough in the south, and take good 
care of your grounds, and cattle, and so on; at least, I 
heain Josiah Norton say so, when he come home from 
down to south, where he had been pedling a spell. Si 
ses to me, ses he, 4 Please goodness! but that’s a poor 
country down yander; it makes the tears come into the 
kiliear’s eyes when they fly over the old fields. Dod 
drot me, if you can ever get a drink of cider!! They 
ain't got no apples but little runts of things, about as 
big us your thumb, and so sour, that when a pig sticks 
his tooth into ’em, he lays back his jaw, and hollers, you 
might hear him a mile: but it’s 4 eat, pig, or die’—^for 
it’s all he’s got. And then again they’re great for 
huntin of foxes; and if you were to see their hounds ! 
lean, lank, labber-sided pups, that are so poor they have 
to prop up agin a post-and-rail fence, ’fore they can 
raise a bark at my tin-cart. It’s the poorest place was 
ever made.’ ” 44 So,” said I, 44 f tranger, you had better 

come down and judge for yourself, both as to principles 
and habits: you would be as much pleased, I am sure, 
as I have been in coming north.” 

Next morning I rose early, and started for Lowell in 
a fine carriage, with three gentlemen who had agreed to 
accompany me. I had heard so much of this place that 
I longed to see it; not because I had heard of the 
44 mile of galsno, I left that for the gallantry of the 
president, who is admitted, on that score, to be abler 
than myself: but I wanted to see the power of the ma¬ 
chinery, wielded by the keenest calculations of human 


214 


FREE LABOR. 


ikill ; I wanted to see how it was that these northerners 
could buy our cotton, and carry it home, manufacture 
it, bring it back, and sell it for half nothing; and, in 
the mean time, be well to live, and make money besides. 

We stopped at the large stone house at the head of 
the falls of the Merrimac river, and having taken a 
little refreshment, went down among the factories. The 
dinner bells were ringing, and the folks pouring out of 
the houses like bees out of a gum. I looked at them as 
they passed, all well dressed, lively, and genteel in their 
appearance; indeed, the girls looked as if they were 
coming from a quilting frolic. We took a turn round, 
and after dining on a fine salmon, again returned, and 
entered the factories. 

The out-door appearance was fully sustained by the 
whole of the persons employed in the different rooms 
1 went in among the young girls, and talked with many 
of them. Not one expressed herself as tired of her 
employment, or oppressed with work: all talked well, 
and looked healthy. Some of them were very hand¬ 
some ; and I could not help observing that they kept 
the prettiest inside, and put the homely ones on the out¬ 
side rows. 

I could not help reflecting on the difference of condi¬ 
tion between these females, thus employed, and those of 
other populous countries, where the female character is 
degraded to abject slavery. Here were thousands, use¬ 
ful to others, and enjoying all the blessings of freedom, 
with the prospect before them of future comfort and 
respectability: and however we, who only hear of them, 
may call their houses workshops and prisons, I assure 


LOWELL. 


215 


my neighbors there is every enjoyment of life realized 
by these persons, and there can be but few who are not 
happy. It cannot be otherwise : respectability depends 
upon being neighbor-like: here everybody works, and 
therefore no one is degraded by it; on the contrary, 
these who don’t work are not estimated. 

There are more than five thousand females employed 
in Lowell; and when you come to see the amount of 
labor performed by them, in superintending the different 
machinery, you will be astonished. 

Twelve years ago, the place where Lowell now rises 
in all its pride was a sheep-pasture. It took its name 
from Francis C. Lowell, the projector of its manufac¬ 
tories, and was incorporated in 1826—then a mere 
village. The fall, obtained by a canal from the Merri- 
fflac river, is thirty-two feet, affording two levels for 
mills, of thirteen and seventeen feet; and the whole 
water of the river can be used. 

There are about fourteen thousand inhabitants. It 
contains nine meeting-houses ; appropriates seven thou¬ 
sand five hundred dollars for free schools; provides in¬ 
struction for twelve hundred scholars, daily; and about 
three thousand annually partake of its benefits. It 
communicates with Boston by the Middlesex canal (the 
first ever made in the United States); and in a short 
time the railroad to Boston will be completed, affording 
every facility of intercourse to the seaboard. 

This place has grown by, and must depend on, its 
manufactures. Its location renders it important, not 
onlv to the owners, but to the nation. Its consumption 
not only employs the thousands of its own population, 


CU5 


A PRESENT. 


but many thousands far away from them. It is calcu* 
lated not only to give individual happiness and prosperity, 
but to add to our national wealth and independence; and 
instead of depending on foreign countries, to have oui 
own material worked up in our own country. 

Some of the girls attended three looms ; and they 
make from one dollar seventy-five cents to three dollars 
per week, after paying their board. These looms weave 
fifty-five yards per day; so that one person makes one 
hundred and sixty-five yards per day. Everything 
moves on like clock-work, in all the variety of employ¬ 
ments ; and the whole manufacture appears to be of the 
very best. 

The owner of one of the mills, Mr. Lawrence, presented 
me with a suit of broadcloth, made out of wool bought 
from Mark Cockral, of Mississippi, who sold them about 
four thousand pounds, and it was as good cloth as the 
best I ever bought for best imported. 

The calico made here is beautiful, and of every variety 
of figure and color. To attempt to give a description of 
the manner in which it is stamped and colored is far be¬ 
yond my abilities. One thing I must state, that after 
the web is wove, and before they go further, it is actually 
passed over a red-hot cylinder , to scorch off the furze. 
The number of different operations is truly astonishing; 
and if one of my country-women had the whole of the 
persons in her train that helped to make her gown, she 
should be like a captain on a field muster : and yet, when 
y:u come to look at the cost, it would take a trunk full 
them to find these same people in living for one day. 
I never witnessed such a combina tion of industry, and 


A SUPPE*. 


217 


perhaps never will again. I saw the whole process, from 
the time they put in the raw material, until it came out 
completely finished. In fact, it almost came up to the 
old story of a fellow walking into a patent machine with 
a bundle of wool under his arm, and coming out at the 
other end with a new coat on. 

Nothing can be more agreeable than the attention that 
is paid by every one connected with these establishments. 
Nothing appears to be kept secret—every process is 
shown and with great cheerfulness. I regret that more 
of our southern and western men do not go there, as it 
would help much to do away with their prejudices against 
these manufactories. 

I met the young gentlemen of Lowell, by their partic¬ 
ular request, at supper. About one hundred sat down. 
Everything was in grand order, and went off well. They 
toasted me , and I enlightened them by a speech as good 
as I could make; and, indeed, I considered them a good 
set of fellows, and as well worth speaking to as any ones 
I had met with. The old saying, “ them that don’t work 
should not eat,” don’t apply to them, for they are rale 
w r orkies, and know how to act genteel, too; for I assure 
you I was not more kindly, and hospitably, and liber¬ 
ally treated any where than just by these same people. 

After supper I went to my lodgings for the night. 
Next morning I took another range round the town and 
returned to Boston. 

Part of this evening I spent at Lieutenant Governor 
Armstrong’s',* where I met a number of ladies and gentle¬ 
men. Part of it went off very pleasantly with my worthy 

♦ Samuel T. Arwstroug, an eminent bookseller of Boston. 


NEW ENGLAND HOSPITALITY. 

landlord in his private rooms ; and I do him the justice to 
say, that while he supplied his visiters with every thing that 
was nice, he had also picked out for himself as pretty a 
little bird as ever fluttered, and is in good keeping with 
everything about the establishment. 

Having been invited to the theatre, I went over and 
sat a short time to be looked at. I was very genteel and 
quiet, and so I suppose I disappointed some of them, who 
expected to see a half horse half alligator sort of fellow. 

This was my last night in Boston, and I am sure, if I 
never see the place again, I never can forget the kind 
and friendly manner in which I was treated by them. It 
appeared to me that every body was anxious to serve me, 
and make my time agreeable. And as a proof that comes 
home—when I called for my bill next morning, I was told 
there was no charge to be paid by me, and that he was 
very much delighted that I had made his house my home. 
[ forgot to mention that they treated me so in Lowell— 
but it is true. This was, to me, at all events, proof 
enough of Yankee liberality; and more than they gener¬ 
ally get credit for. In fact, from the time I entered 
New England, I was treated with the greatest friendship; 
and I hope never shall forget it; and I wish all v r ho read 
this book, and who never were there, w r ould take a trip 
among them. If they don’t learn how to make money, 
they will know how to use it; and if they don’t learn in¬ 
dustry, they will see how comfortable every body can be 
that turns his hands to some employment. 

Next day the stage called for me at seven o’clock, and 
I took my departure from Boston, and went to Provi¬ 
dence in Rhode Island. Here I was invited to dine at 


VISIT TO CAMDEN. 


21 * 


two cf the hotels, but declined both. In fact, I was 
tired out, and wanted a day or two to get rested; and 
my face being turned towards Washington and my busi¬ 
ness, I thought I had better go ahead. 

W e had, from Providence, what they call a pretty con- 
xidersable of a run , and landed safely in New York that 
city of eternal din and confusion. 

I 3pent that evening with some ladies and gentlemen, 

and rode out with --, in his carriage, faster than 

I ever was driven by horse power, for twenty-five miles. 

Next morning I took my leave of the city of New 
York, and arrived safely in Philadelphia. 

Having promised Mr. Hoy of Camden to call and see 
him on my return, and having fixed the time, I went 
over accompanied by several gentlemen, to the Jersey 
shore, where there were a great many people waiting to 
receive me. They gave me the hand of friendship, and 
appeared pleased that I had come over to see them. We 
proceeded to Mr. Hoy’s, and then I took a walk around 
through Camden. On returning to Mr. Hoy’s I took 
some refreshments, and was called on foi a toast, but 
begged off, as I expected to be called on for one at dinner. 

Some time after this we were asked in to dinner, and 
heard some one say he had lost his pocket-book. And 
in a few minutes a second cry was raised, that another 
man had lost his pocket-book. I then felt for mine, but 
I felt in vain—it was gone, with one hundred and sixty- 
eight dollars in it. I told them there was another gentle¬ 
man that had his deposits removed, and it must be a 
Jackson man who did it, as it was all on their own plan. 
But as I was among my friends, I knew I was not just a 



220 


TRIP TO BALTIMORE. 


broke man, and therefore I shut pan on the subject, and 
fell to eating my dinner. We had every thing that wa& 
good to eat, and abundance of fine wine, so we soon for¬ 
got the ills of life. After the table was cleared and 
some toasts drunk, they toasted me in a very handsome 
manner, complimenting me highly for the course I had 
taken as a public servant. I returned my gratitude in a 
speech of about half an hour; but which, as is said 
in certain advertisements, w r ould be too tedious to 
insert. 

After spending a pleasant afternoon, I returned to 
Philadelphia in the horse-boat; the very one, I suppose, 
the fellow told of when crossing over. He said they had 
put in a couple of colts, and being very wild, they pitched 
ahead, ran off with the boat down the river and never 
stopped till they came up jam against the breakwater. 

Next morning I was invited to go on to Baltimore in 
the People’s Line of steamboats. I accepted the proposal, 
and started in the Ohio steamboat. What is a little re¬ 
markable is this, that the rail-road line had always here¬ 
tofore beat the People’s Line until that day, when we 
passed them, and came into port sometime before them. 
Whether this was because they had me on board or not, 
I do not pretend to say. Some said, if I could tow a 
boat up the Mississippi, it was no wonder I could help 
one along on the Chesapeake bay. 

Many of my friends met me on the wharf at Baltimore, 
and escorted me to Barnum’s, where there was a great 
crowd of people. They called on me for a speech. I 
made a great many apologies, but none seemed to fit the 


RETURN TO WASHINGTON. 


221 


right place, and I was compelled once more to play the 
orator. 

As usual, w r hen there is some speaking going on, there 
is a good deal of eating and drinking; so I eat and drank 
generously, and retired. 

Several friends called on me, and requested me to 
visit Major James P. Heath, member of Congress from 
Baltimore. I did so, and staid a short time at his house, 
and then returned to uncle Davie’s. 

Next morning I took the stage for Washington. When 
I arrived at the capitol, I found nothing new, more than 
they had just got through the appropriation bill, and was 
taking the vote to postpone Mr. Boone’s resolution, set¬ 
ting the day of adjournment. I went in while the clerk 
was calling the ayes and noes, and when he came to my 
name, and I answered, every one was astonished to find 
me at my post. Did not I tell you,” said I, “ that I 
would not vote on the appropriation bill, but when you 
came to any thing else, I was ‘ Charley on the spot?’ ” 
I walked about the house, saw my friends, and sat out 
the Congress. When the House adjourned for gooA and 
all, I started for home, by the way of Philadelphia. 


* CHAPTER XXII. 

Breaking up of Congress—Crockett at Philadelphia— Presentation 
of the Rifle—The Colonel’s Speech—Yisit to the Fish House— Cele¬ 
bration of the Fourth of July—The Colonel’s Speech at Ci.esnut 
Street Theatre—Present of Gunpowder from Mr. Dupont—Croc¬ 
kett at Pittsburg—His advice to Tennessee—Conversation with 
Captain Stone—Passage to Cincinnati and Louisville—Speech at 
Louisville—Return Home—Shooting for Beef. 

Did you, my good reader, ever witness a breaking up 
of Congress ? If not, you had better come and see for 
yourself. The first thing that is done is, to be sure that 
Sunday shall be one of the last days. That is because 
we get paid for Sunday; and then, as they generally 
fix, at the end of long sessions, on Monday to break up, 
a good many can start on Saturday evening or Sunday 
morning, with two days’ extra pay in hand, as they never 
calculate on much to be done on the last day of the ses¬ 
sion, except to send messages to the senate and president 
that they are ready to adjourn, &c., &c. We generally 
lounge or squabble the greater part of the session, and 
crowd into a few days of the last of the term three or 
four times the business done during as many preceding 
months. You may therefore guess at the deliberations 
of Congress, when you can’t hear, for the soul of you, 
what’s going on, nor no one knows what it is, but three 

or four, and when it’s no use to try to know. Woe 
1222 ) 


BREAKING UP OF CONGRESS. 


223 


betide a bill that is opposed ! It is laid aside for further 
time, and that never comes. This is considered, how¬ 
ever, bj some of the great men as good legislation ; tc 
reject every claim, as if the American people was a herd 
of scoundrels, and every petitioner a cheat, and thereforo 
they are doing the country service to reject every thing. 
Most of these worthies are content to vote no, and will 
not trouble themselves to investigate. I don’t know 
what they are made of, for to me nothing is more de¬ 
lightful than to vote for a claim which, I think, is justly 
due, and make them feel as if the government cared for 
them and their concerns, and would pay what was justly 
due. What do you think would a petitioner care about 
going to fight for his country who had been dinging at 
the doors of Congress, ever since the last war, for some 
claim or other justly due him, but driven from post to 
pillar, because he does not come within the spirit or let¬ 
ter of some general law, or because if you pay him, you 
must others like him ? This an’t the way with private 
people; they must pay, or be called unjust, and be sued 
into the bargain. 

When I arrived in Philadelphia, I put up at the United 
States, where I felt a kind of being at home. 

Next morning I was informed that the rifle gun which 
was to be presented to me by the young men of Philadel¬ 
phia, was finished, and would be delivered that evening; 
and that a committee had been appointed to wait on mo 
and conduct me to where I was to receive it. So, ac¬ 
cordingly, in the evening the committee came, and I 
walked with them to a room nearly forrent the old state- 
house : it was crowded full, and there ivas a table in the 


224 


RIFLE PRESENTED. 


centre, with the gun, a tomahawk, and butcher-knife, 
both of fine razor metal, with all the accoutrements ne¬ 
cessary to the gun—the most beautiful I ever saw, or 
any body else; and I am now happy to add, as good as 
they are handsome. My friend, John M. Sanderson, Esq., 
who had the whole management of getting her made, was 
present, and delivered the gun into my hands. Upon 
receiving her, I addressed the company as follows: 

Gentlemen: I receive this rifle from the young men 
of Philadelphia, as a testimony of friendship, which I 
hope never to live to forget. This is a favorite article 
with me, and would have been my choice above all pre¬ 
sents that could have been selected. I love a good gun, 
for it makes a man feel independent, and* prepared either 
for war or peace. 

“ This rifle does honor to the gentleman that made it. 
I must say, long as I have been accustomed to handle a 
gun, I have never seen anything that could come near a 
comparison to her in beauty. I cannot think that ever 
such a rifle was made, either in this, or any other coun¬ 
try ; and how, gentlemen, to express my gratitude to 
you for your splendid present, I am at loss. This much, 
however, I will say, that myself and my sons will not 
forget you while we use this token of your kindness for 
our amusement. If it should become necessary to use 
her in defence of the liberty of our country, in my time, 
I will do as I have done before; and if the struggle 
should come when I am buried in the dust, I will leave 
her in the hands of some who will honor your present, 
in company with your sons, in standing for our country’* 
rights. 


THE FISH HOUSE. 


225 


c< Accept my sincere thanks, therefore, gentlemen, for 
} wir valuable present—one of which I will keep as a 
testimony of your friendship, so long as I am in exis- 
tf nee.” 

] then received the gun and accoutrements, and re* 
fumed to the hotel, where I made an agreement with 
Mr. Sanderson and Colonel Pulaski, to go with them the 
next day to Jersey shore, at Camden, and try my gun. 

Next morning we went out. I had been long out of 
practice, so that I could not give her a fair trial. I shot 
tolerable well, and was satisfied that when we became 
better acquainted, the fault would be mine if the var¬ 
mints did not suffer. 

I w r as invited the next day to go up and spend the day 
at the Fish House on the Schuylkill, where the fathers 
of our country, in ancient days, used to assemble and 
spend the day in taking their recreation and refresh¬ 
ments. It has been a noted place ever since, and is as 
beautiful as you can imagine. It is called the twenty- 
fifth state. They have regular officers, and keep up the 
old customs with a great deal of formality. We amused 
ourselves shooting, and catching perch. We had a nice 
refreshment, and abundance of the best to drink. Every 
gentleman took a hand in cooking; and the day was 
truly spent in harmony and peace. 

The next morning was the Fourth of July, and I had 
received an invitation, while at. Washington, to take din¬ 
ner in the first district, at the Hermitage, with tho 
Whigs, and had accepted the invitation. 

At an early hour I w T as invited to the Musical Fund 
Hall, where an oration was to be delivered; and went 
15 


2-0 CELEBRATION OF THE FOURTH OF JULY. 

with the honorable Messrs. Webster, Poindexter, M* i 
gum, Ewing, and Robbins, senators, and Mr. Denny, 4 
the House of Representatives. We were conducted up 
to a gallery in the first story of an immense building, 
crowded below to overflowing, with ladies and gentlemen. 

After the address of the orator, the audience was also 
addressed by all the senators, and I was then called on. 
“A speech from Colonel Crockett,” was the cry all over 
the house. I was truly embarrassed to succeed so many 
great men, and where I saw so many ladies; but I found 
no excuse would do, and so spoke. 

I then returned to the hotel, where I was waited on in 
a short time by a committee, with a splendid carriage, 
and was conveyed to the Hermitage, where I met a large 
concourse of people; and when it was made known that 
I had arrived, I was received with loud and repeated 
cheers, and peals of cannon. I was conveyed to a large 
and cool shade, and introduced to a vast number of citi¬ 
zens, who all appeared glad to see me. I partook of 
cool drinks of various kinds, and amused myself among 
the people till near the dinner hour. We were then 
asked to walk out and take our seats on the stand, 
where the Declaration of Independence was read, and a 
most appropriate address was delivered by the orator cf 
the day. 

1 was then called on by the crowd for a speech; but 
dinner was ready, and we agreed to postpone further 
speaking until after dinner. 

The dinner, in elegance and variety, did honor to the 
person who prepared it. After the cloth was remo red. 


6PEECH AT CHESNUT STREET THEATRE. 227 

and the regular toasts given, I was complimented with ft 
toast. 

I rose and requested the company to do me the favor 
fcj repair to the stand, and I would endeavor to address 
them from it, as the crowd was so great, it would be im 
possible for me to make them hear at the table, and if 1 
had to speak, I desired to gratify all. When we got out, 
1 found a great many ladies surrounding the stand. 1 
made my way to it among the crowd, who were loudly 
calling out for my speech, and addressed them. 

I then thanked the people for their attention, and wo 
repaired to the table, filled our glasses, and drank my 
toast. 

By this time, Mr. Webster, Mr. Robbins, and Mr. 
Denny arrived, and each were severally toasted, and each 
made a speech. The whole of the day was delightfully 
spent; everybody seemed pleased, and I enjoyed myself 
much. 

Shortly after this the committee returned with me, 
and we went to the Chesnut street theatre. Here I met 
a great concourse of people, all in a fine Fourth of July 
condition. Immediately upon its being announced that I 
had arrived, I was called on from all quarters for a speech. 
I rose, and made an apology that I was so hoarse, speaking 
so much, that I could hardly be heard. However, no 
excuse would be taken; so I was conveyed to the centre 
of the crowd, and made them a short address. They 
gave me two or three thunders like you hear on the 
stage, and then went on with the show. 

I soon left them and returned to the hotel, and really 
was worn out with the scenes of the day, and making thre« 


228 PRESENT FROM MR. DUPONJ. 

cff-hand speeches; and I have often thought since, that 
nothino* could have induced me to have done so, if it had 
not been in Philadelphia, and on the Fourth of July.* I 
was stimulated by being in sight of the old State-house, 
and Independence square, where the fathers of our coun¬ 
try met, as it were, with halters on their necks, and sub¬ 
scribed their names to that glorious Declaration of Inde¬ 
pendence. 

Next morning, I was introduced to the great powder- 
maker, Mr. Dupont, who said to me, that he had been 
examining my fine gun, and that he had wished to make 
me a present of half a dozen canisters of his best sports¬ 
man’s powder. I thanked him, and he went off, and in 
a short time returned with one dozen, nicely boxed up 
and directed to me. I then made my arrangements to 
start the next morning. 

While walking about that evening with a friend, we 
called in at a China importer’s store. I was introduced 
to him; and after looking at his splendid collection for 
some time, he told me he had a wish to present me with 
a large pitcher. I thought the gentleman was joking, at 
first; but he assured me, that if I would accept it, he 
would pack it up in a box so that it could not break, 
and I could carry it home safely. I thanked him sin¬ 
cerely for his friendship. It was sent to me, and I 
carried it home and gave it to my wife, telling her that, 
when I was away, that pitcher should remind her that 
folks get thirsty, and the same spirit which prompted 
the gentleman to give, should make us use it. I am 
sorry I forgot his name. 

Early next morning I set out for Pittsburg, by the 


CONVERSATION WITH A JACKSON MAN. 


‘229 


fast line, and liad a very pleasant trip over the rnoun 
tains. I attracted much attention as I passed through 
Pennsylvania, where it was known who I was. Afcjut 
the middle of the State I met with an old man in a 
tavern, and asked him who was his representative in 
Congress. “Why,” says he, “Dunlap.” I tjld him 
that could not be, there was but one of that name in, 
and he was from Tennessee. “Well,” sajs he, “it 
must be Crawford.” No, I told him, thvre was no 
Crawford in the House. “Well, hang it, then, it must 
be George Chambers.” “Ah, now you're right; I 
know him well, he’s a good fellow—walks the planks 
straight. I hope you will re-elect him.” “Well, I 
expect we will; I know nothing against him, only he 
isn’t on our side.” “ What side are you on ?” “ Well, 
I’m for Jackson.” “Why,” said I, “I thought that 
was no side at all; he’s on top .” The old man looked 
at me right hard. Says I, “ Mister, what makes you 
for Jackson ?” “ Why,” says he, “ he licked the British 
at New Orleans, and paid off the national debt.” 
“Mister,” says I, “who was the officers and soldier? 
that fought at New Orleans besides General Jackson?” 
,IIe said he did not know. “Well,” says I, “they 
ought to have a part of the glory, any how—now tell 
me whose money pays off the national debt?”’ “Why, 
I suppose, old Jackson’s, as they keep so much talk 
about it.” “Well, now, my good old friend, suppose 
part of it was yours, and part mine, and part every¬ 
body’s else; and suppose he would have been broke of 
his office if he had not paid out what a law of Congress, 
made twenty years ago, provided for paying, what is the 


CROCKETT AT PITTSBURG. 


glory of the whole of this?” He looked kind of 
stumped. I bid him good bye, and told him that he 
ought to read both sides. 

I arrived in Pittsburg in the night, and early in the 
morning went down to the wharf to inquire for a steam¬ 
boat. I soon found Captain Stone, who commanded 
the Hunter. He said he had been waiting a day, think 
ing that I would like to go with him. That was true, 
and I found him all sorts of a clever man. We were to 
start at ten o’clock. I returned to the tavern where I 
had put up, and a great many gentlemen called to see 
me, and, among others, Mr. Grant, brother-in-law of 
Governor Carroll, of Tennessee. He invited me to walk 
through the city, and to visit his house, which I did, 
and he introduced me to a great many of the citizens. 
I returned, and prepared for a start. 

My acquaintance in this place was very limited. I 
had been there before, but my name had not made such 
a noise then as now. 

The marks of industry and enterprise are very visible 
in Pittsburg. It is a perfect workshop, and is increasing 
every year in extent, beauty, and population. The 
aqueduct, and other splendid works terminating the 
great canal from Philadelphia, speaks highly for Penn¬ 
sylvania foresight and perseverance. What signifies the 
debt incurred by her ? but it is no debt, in my mind, 
rt is a noble, imperishing, and increasing investment for 
posterity; and they will, to remotest ages, bier the 
men who have sustained so much abuse by the paok out 
of office, and will consider them as the greatest bene¬ 
factors of their State and of the nation. I say of the 


^ITTSBURO. 


231 


Ration ; for this canal is a new artery in the body 
politic, through which the life-blood of its future pros¬ 
perity and union will flow for ever. Its present facili¬ 
ties have brought a part of the State of Ohio, in point 
of cost of transportation, within two days’ drive with a 
wagon of the city of Philadelphia, and it will be lower 
still. Is not this national in its operation ? Who can 
^oubt it ? 

I had heard it said, particularly in New York, that 
this same canal never could get along, because their 
great 'western canal would carry all the produce and 
merchandize; and I took some pains to hear.a little 
about it, and am fully persuaded such is not the fact, 
and never can be. I was informed that the trade on 
this Pennsylvania canal was four or five times what it 
was when the first year ended, and in a few years would 
be a profit to the State; and to me it seems clear, that 
no one south of Pittsburg, in Ohio, and elsewhere, are 
going to send their merchandize way round by the New 
York canal, and run the risks of the lake, when they 
can put them snug into a boat at Philadelphia, and land 
them safe, without risk, in Pittsburg. I wish I could 
agree with the Pennsylvanians as well in other respects 
as I do on internal improvements. What will she not 
do for her inhabitants in a few years, when her twenty 
odd millions, invested in all her vast and various im¬ 
provements, shall yield but a moderate profit! Iter 
roads will all be paved; her rivers and creeks made 
navigable; her schools be free for high and low, and 
her inhabitants free from taxation f !! Reader, these 
events are sure to come. 


232 


ADVICE TO TENNESSEE. 


And here, let me address a word to my own States 
Go on with what little you have begun, and never rest 
until you have opened every facility to every part of our 
State. Though we are divided into east and west, we 
are all Tennessee. Give a “long pull, and a strong 
pull, and a pull altogether,” and every difficulty will 
vanish. Give our inhabitants a chance among the rest 
of the States, and you’ll not hear so much of Alabama, 
or Arkansas, or Texas. 

Well, I’ve got a long slipe off from my steamboat, the 
Hunter, and I had better look up the captain. So off 
I starts, trunk, gun-case, old lady’s pitcher, and all. 
“How’s the water, Captain Stone?” “Why, colonel, 
the river is pretty considerable for a run, but the water 
is as cool as Presbyterian charity, and the old Monon- 
gahela is a leetle of the remains of what Abigail, the 
wife of old Nabal, carried as a present to David. Clear 
off the coal-dust out of your wizzand, and give us a 
yarn about your tower.” “Why, captain, may I be 
shot if you mightn’t run with this same craft of yourn 
down, through, and out of Symmes’s lower hole, and 
back again, afore I could get through half what I’ve 
seen ; I’ve been clean away amongst the Yankees, where 
they call your name Stunn .” “ Me, Stunn ! well, it’s 

hard that as slick a fellow as me should go by such 
nick-names. Livin gingers ! what d’ye suppose, colonel, 
they call me in Orlanes ?” “ I dare say, some hard 

name.” “ Only think of the parly vous ; some call me 
Mr. Peer, and some, by jingo, call me Mr. Peter; and 
you can’t beat it out of them. Only think of Sam Gun, 
the fireman; he took a spree with some of them Char- 


CONVERSATION WITH CAPTAIN STONE 233 

lies, in Orlanes, and they begun to call him Mounsheer 
Fusil. Well, Sam bore it a good while; but at last he 
told Joe Head, the engineer, that the first fellow who 
miscalled his father’s name, should have a tip of his 
daddle. ‘Good,’ says Joe; says he, ‘Sam, only take 
care of their caniffs , as how they call them long knives.’ 
Well, it wasn’t long before Sam peeled the bark off of a 
parly’s knowledge-box, and so Joe and him had it with 
a cabin full of them. So Sam he got off to the boat, 
but the calaboos men got Joe; so Joe he sends for me, 
and when they cum for me, they passed the word that 
Mr. Tate had sent for me. Well, off I goes to the 
police, and they axed me if I would go bail for Moun¬ 
sheer Tate. ‘No,’ says I; ‘don’t know him.’ ‘Yes, 
but you do, captain,’ said some one inside; and when I 
went in, who should it be but Joe Head! transmogrified 
into Mounsheer Tate!! Well, we got the matter ex¬ 
plained, and they all laughed and drunk friends. Well, 
colonel, here’s to you ; I’m sure you didn’t get anything 
better anywhere; and afore we quit, just tell me, did 
you see the sea-sarpint?” “No, indeed, I did not, 
although I spoke for him not to be out of the way.” 
“ Well, colonel, I wonder at them Yankee fellows, they 
are monstrous cute; but I suspect they don’t know 
much about snaking. I think with me in the Hunter 
here, you with your rifle, and one of these ’long shore 
Spaniards with his lasso, w T e would give him a little of 
the hurricane tipp’d with thunder.” “If we didn’t 
catch him,” says I, “ we could scare him out of his skin, 
and that’s all they want at the museum.” 

So we passed our time till we arrived opposite Wheel- 


231 PASSAGE TO CINCINNATI AND LOUISVILLI. 


ing. I walked up into the town, and was soon sur* 
rounded by many of the citizens, and in a short time was 
Waited on by a committee, and invited to partake of a 
dinner that day at three o’clock. This kind invitation 1 
was obliged to decline, lest I should lose my passage. 
So they treated me handsomely, and asked the captain, 
before he started, to run a short distance up the river, 
and as he came past they would give him a salute. He 
did so. I got on the hurricane deck, took off my hat, 
and returned their salute. They continued to cheer un¬ 
til we got out of hearing. All went on well, and we ar¬ 
rived at the mouth of Guyandotte, where we took on 
board Messrs. Hardin, Tompkins, and Beaty, three of the 
members of Congress from Kentucky. We went on plea¬ 
santly until we arrived at Cincinnati. Our boat was 
fine, and the Captain a clever fellow. It was night when 
we arrived ; so, early next morning I called to see my 
two friends, Messrs. Smiths and families, spent a short 
time with them, and returned to the boat. By this time 
it was ascertained that I was on board, and a committee 
waited on me, and invited me to partake of a cold cut at 
three o’clock that day, and make them a speech. I 
agreed to do so. 

I remained over night and took the packet boat next 
morning for Louisville, where I arrived the day after. 
My friends had provided for me at the Louisville hotel, 
the finest public house I have been in west of the moun¬ 
tains. I was asked to make a speech to the people next 
day, which I agreed to, as I had no hope of getting off :n a 
boat for a few days. It was published that I was to 
*peak on the next evening; so I was sent for in the 


SPEECH AT LOUISVILLE. 


235 


morning to visit Jeffersonville Springs, in Indiana, acrosa 
the river. I went, and found a number of ladies and 
gentlemen, and after being introduced to the company, 
I was asked to make a speech, to which I had hut little 
objection, as I wished to discuss the question of the Pres¬ 
ident vetoing the Wabash appropriation, and yet signing 
the Van Buren, New York, Hudson river bill. This I 
did, and the people appeared well pleased. I partook of 
6ome of the good things of this life with them, exhorting 
all Jackson Yan Buren men to turn from the evil of their 
ways, and took myself off for the other side of the 
river. 

In the evening I attended at the court-house, and met 
the largest concourse of people that ever has been assem¬ 
bled in Louisville since it has been settled. This I was 
told by a gentleman who had resided there for upwards 
of twenty years. The people all appeared to be excited 
with curiosity or something else. I had no idea of at¬ 
tracting so much attention; but there I was in the thick 
of them. I discovered there were a great many ladies 
amongst the audience, and among them the celebrated 
Mrs. Drake. A stand had been erected for me in the 
court-house yard, on which I stood and addressed the 
crowd. 

I then returned to the hotel, and in a short time a 
committee of the young men waited on me and invited 
me to a dinner on Thursday, as a testimony in favor of 
my political course. I gave a conditional acceptance, 
and no boat arriving, I attended and partook of them 
with a splendid dinner. I was toasted, and made a speech, 
complimenting the young men for their zeal in the cause 


236 


RETURN HOME. 


of their country. If I had the powers of General Lafa 
yette, 1 would have written out all my speeches; but I 
have not, and therefore omit this one. All passed off 
pleasantly, and next day I took the steamboat Scotland, 
commanded by Captain Buckner, a gentleman, every 
inch of him. After a fine run, we arrived at Mills’ 
Point on the 22d day of July. Here I once more touched 
the soil, of Tennessee, and found my son William waiting 
to carry me home, which was distant thirty-five miles. 

When I landed and took out my fine gun, the folks ga¬ 
thered round me to see the great curiosity. A large fel¬ 
low stepped up, and asked me why all the membeis did 
not get such guns given them ? I told him I got that 
gun for being honest, in supporting my country instead 
of bowing down and worshiping an idol. He looked at 
me and said, that was very strong. “ No stronger than 
true, my friend,” said I. 

In a short time I set out for my own home: yes, my 
own home, my own soil, my own humble dwelling, my 
own family, my own hearts, my ocean of love and affec¬ 
tion which neither circumstances nor time can dry up. 
Here, like the wearied bird, let me settle down for awhile, 
and shut out the world. * * * * 

In the course of a few days, I determined to try my 
new gun upon the living subject. I started for a hunt, 
and shortly came across a fine buck. He fell at the dis¬ 
tance of one hundred and thirty steps. Not a bad shot, 
you will say. I say, not a bad gun either. After a little 
practice with her, she came up to the eye prime, and 1 
determined to try her at the first shooting-match for 
beef. 


SHOOTING FOR BEEF. 


231 


As this is a novelty to most of my readers, I will 
endeavor to give a description of this western amuse¬ 
ment. 

In the latter part of summer our cattle get very fat, 
as the range is remarkably fine; and some one, desirous 
of raising money on one of his cattle, advertises that on 
a particular day, and at a given place, a first-rate beef 
will be shot for. 

When the day comes, every marksman in the neigh¬ 
borhood will meet at the appointed place, with his gun. 
After the company has assembled, a subscription paper 
is handed round, with the following heading: 

“ A. B. offers a beef worth twenty dollars, to be shot 
for, at twenty-five cents a shot.” Then the names are 
put down by each person, thus: 

D. C. puts in four shots, . . . $1 00 

E. F. “ eight “ . . . 2 00 

G. H. « two “ ... 0 50 

And thus it goes round, until the price is made up. 

Two persons are then selected, who have not entered 

for shots, to act as judges of the match. Every shooter 
gets a board, and makes a cross in the centre of his tar¬ 
get. The shot that drives the centre, or comes nearest 
to it, gets the hide and tallow , which is considered the 
first choice. The next nearest gets his choice of the 
hind quarters; the third gets the other hind quarter; 
the fourth takes choice of the fore quarters; the fifth the 
remaining quarter; and the sixth gets the lead in the 
tree against which we shoot. 

The judges stand near the tree, and when a man fires 
they cry out, “ Who shot? ” and the shooter gives in his 


238 


SHOOTING FOR BEEF. 


name; and so on, till all have shot. The judges then 
take all the boards, and go off by themselves, and decide 
what quarter each man has w*»n. Sometimes one will 
get nearly all. 

This is one of our homely amusements—enjoyed as 
much by us, and perhaps more, than most of your refined 
entertainments. Here each man takes & part, if he 
pleases, and no one is excluded, unless hia oper con¬ 
duct renders him unfit as an associate. 


CHAPTER XXIII. 


Electioneering—Stump speech—Price of Popularity—Treating- Tht 
Cocc skin Trick—The Yankee Merchant outwitted—Offer of Com¬ 
pensation on the part of the Colonel refused—Adam Huntsman, 
the Colonel’s Opponent. 

I begin this chapter on the 8th day of July, 1885, at 
Home, Weakley county, Tennessee. I have just re¬ 
turned from a two weeks’ electioneering canvass and I 
have spoken every day to large concourses of people 
with my competitor. I have him badly plagued, for he 
does not know as much about “ the Government,” the 
deposites, and the Little Plying Dutchman, whoso life I 
wrote, as I can tell the people; and at times ho is as 
much bothered as a fly in a tar pot to get out of the 
mess. A candidate is often stumped in making stump 
speeches. His name is Adam Huntsman; he lost a leg 
in an Indian fight, they say, during the last war, and the 
Government run him on the score of his military services. 
I tell him in my speech that I have great hopes ef writ¬ 
ing one more book, and that shall be the second fall of 
Adam, for he is on the Eve of an almighty thrashing, 
lie relishes the joke about as much as a doctor does his 
own physic. I handle the administration without gloves, 
and I do believe I will double my competitor, if I have 

a fair shake, and he does not work like a mole ii the 

( 239 } 


240 


STUMP SPEECH. 


dark, Jacksonism is dying here faster than it ever 
sprung up, and I prediet that “ the Government” will 
be the most unpopular man, in one year more, that ever 
had any pretensions to the high place he now fills. Four 
weeks from to-morrow will end the dispute in our elec¬ 
tions, and if old Adam is not beaten out of his hunting 
shirt, my name isn’t Crockett. 

While on the subject of election matters, I will just 
relate a little anecdote about myself, which will show 
the people to the east, how we manage these things on 
the frontiers. It was when I first run for Congress ; I 
was then in favor of the Hero, for he had chalked out 
his course so sleek in his letter to the Tennessee legisla¬ 
ture, that, like Sam Patch, says I, “ there can be no 
mistake in him,” and so I went ahead. No one dreamt 
about the monster and the deposites at that time, and so, 
as I afterward found, many, like myself, were taken in 
by these fair promises, which were worth about as much 
as a flash in the pan when you have a fair shot at a fat 
bear. 

But I am losing sight of my story. Well, I started 
off to the Cross Roads, dressed in my hunting shirt, and 
my rifle on my shoulder. Many of our constituents had 
assembled there to get a taste of the quality of the can¬ 
didates at orating. Job Snelling, a gander-shanked 
'Yankee, who had been caught somewhere about Plymouth 
Bay, and been shipped to the west with a cargo of cod¬ 
fish and rum, erected a large shantee, and set up shop 
for the occasion. A large posse of the voters had as¬ 
sembled before I arrived, and my opponent had already 
made considerable headway with his speechifying and 


PRICE OE POPULARITY. 


241 


h.13 treating, when they spied me about a rifle shot from 
the camp, sauntering along as if I was not a party in 
business. “There comes Crockett,” cried one. “Let 
as hear the colonel,” cried another, and so I mounted 
the stump that had been cut down for the occasion, and 
began to bushwhack in the most approved style. 

I had not been up long before there was such an up¬ 
roar in the crowd that I could not hear my own voice, 
and some of my constituents let me know, that they could 
not listen to me on such a dry subject as the welfare of 
the nation, until they had something to drink, and that 
I must treat them. Accordingly I jumped down from 
the rostrum, and led the way to the shantee, followed 
by my constituents, shouting, “ Huzza for Crockett,” 
and “ Crockett for ever ! ” 

When we entered the shantee, Job was busy dealing 

out his rum in a style that showed he was making a good 

day’s w r ork of it, and I called for a quart of the best, but 

the crooked critur returned no other answer than by point- 

in 2 to a board over the bar, on which he had chalked in 
© ' 

large letters, “ Pay to-day and trust to-morrow. ” Now tha t 
idea brought me up all standing; it was a sort of corner¬ 
ing in w'hich there was no back out, for ready mcney in 
the west, in those times, was the shyest thing in all na- 
tur, and it was most particularly shy with me on that 
occasion. 

The voters seeing my predicament, fell off* to the other 
side, and I was left deserted and alone, as the Govern 
ment will be, when he no longer has any offices to bestow. 
I saw, as plain as day, that the tide of popular opinion 
was against me, and that, unless I got some rum speed ly, 
16 


212 


TREATING. 


I should lose my election as sure as there are snakes m 
Virginny,—and it must be done soon, or even burnt 
brandy wouldn’t save me. So I walked away from the 
shantee, but in another guess sort from the way I entered 
it, for on this occasion I had no train after me, and not 
a voice shouted, “ Huzza for Crockett.” Popularity 
sometimes depends on a very small matter indeed; in 
this particular it was worth a quart of New England 
rum, and no more. 

Well, knowing that a crisis was at hand, I struck into 
the woods with my rifle on my shoulder, my best friend 
in time of need, and as good fortune would have it, I had 
not been out more than a quarter of an hour before I 
treed a fat coon, and in the pulling of a trigger, he lay 
dead at the root of the tree. I soon whipped his hairy 
jacket off his back, and again bent my steps towards the 
shantee, and walked up to the bar, but not alone, for this 
time I had half a dozen of my constituents at my heels. 
I threw down the coon skin upon the counter, and called 
for a quart, and Job, though busy in dealing out rum, 
forgot to point at his chalked rules' and regulations, for 
he knew that a coon was as good a legal tender for a 
quart, in the west, as a New York shilling, any day in 
the year. 

My constituents now flocked about me, and cried, 
“ Huzza for Grockett,” “ Crockett for ever,” and find- 
ing the tide had taken a turn, I told them several yarns, 
to get them in a good humor, and having soon dispatched 
the value of the coon, I went out and mounted the stump, 
without opposition, and a clear majority of the voters 
followed me to hear what I had to offer for the good 


COON SKIN TRICK. 


243 


of the nation. Before I was half through, one of my 
constituents moved that they would hear the balance of 
my speech, after they had washed down the first part 
with some more of Job Snelling’s extract of cornstalk 
and molassess, and the question being put, it was carrie 1 
unanimously. It wasn’t considered necessary to tell the 
yeas and nays, so we adjourned to the shantee, and on 
the way I began to reckon that the fate of the nation 
pretty much depended upon my shooting -another coon. 

While standing at the bar, feeling sort of bashful while 
Job’s rules and regulations stared me in the face, I cast 
down my eyes, and discovered one end of the coon skin 
sticking between the logs that supported the bar. Job 
had slung it there in the hurry of business. I gave it a 
sort of quick jerk, and it followed my hand as natural as 
if I had been the rightful owner. I slapped it on the 
counter, and Job, little dreaming that he was barking 
up the wrong tree, shoved along another bottle, which 
my constituents quickly disposed of with great good 
humor, for some of them saw the trick, and then wo 
withdrew to the rostrum to discuss the affairs of the na¬ 
tion. 

I don’t know how it was, but the voters soon becamo 
dry again, and nothing would do, but we must adjourn 
to the shantee, and as luck would have it, the coon skin 
was still sticking between the logs, as if Job had flung it 
there on purpose to tempt me. I was not slow in raising 
it to the counter, the rum followed of course, and I wish 
I may be shot, if I didn’t, before the day was over, get 
ten quarts for the same identical skin, and friun a fellow, 


244 


YANKEE MERCHANT. 


too, who in those parts was considered as sharp as a steel 
trap, and as bright as a pewter button. 

This joke secured me my election, for it soon circu¬ 
lated like smoke among my constituents, and they al 
lowed, with one accord, that the man who could get the 
whip hand of Job Snelling in fair trade, could outwit Old 
Nick himself, and was the real grit for them in Con¬ 
gress. Job was by no means popular; he boasted of 
always being wide awake, and that any one who could 
take him in, was free to do so, for he came from a stock, 
that sleeping or waking had always one eye open, and 
the other not more than half closed. The whole family 
■were geniuses. His hither was the inventor of wooden 
nutmegs, by which Job said he might have made a for¬ 
tune, if he had only taken out a patent and kept the bu¬ 
siness in his own hands; his mother Patience manufac¬ 
tured the first white oak pumpkin seeds of the mammoth 
kind, and turned a pretty penny the first season ; and 
his aunt Prudence was the first to discover that corn 
husks, steeped into tobacco water, would make as hand¬ 
some Spanish wrappers as ever came from Havana, and 
that oak leaves would answer all the purpose of filling, 
for no one could discover the difference except the man 
who smoked them, and then it would be too late to make 
a stir about it. Job, himself, bragged of having made 
some useful discoveries ; the most profitable of which was 
the art of converting mahogany sawdust into cayenne 
pepper, which he said was a profitable and safe business; 
for the people have been so long accustomed to having 
dust thrown in their eyes, that there wasn’t much dan¬ 
ger of being found out. 


WH( PAID THE RUM. 


245 


The way I got to the blind side of the Yankee mer 
chant, was protty generally known before election day, 
and the result was, that my opponent might as well have 
whistled jigs to a milestone, as attempt to beat up for 
votes in that district. I beat him out and out, quite 
back into the old year, and there was scarce enough left 
of him, after the canvass was over, to make a small grease 
spot. He disappeared without even leaving a mark be¬ 
hind ; and such will be the fate of Adam Huntsman, if 
there is a fair fight and no gouging. 

After the election was over, I sent Snelling the price 
of the rum, but took good care to keep the fact from 
the knowledge of my constituents. Job refused tho 
money, and sent me word, that it did him good to be 
taken in occasionally, as it served to brighten his ideas; 
but I afterwards learnt when he found out the trick that 
had been played upon him, he put all the rum I had 
ordered, in his bill against my opponent, who, being ela¬ 
ted with the speeches he had made on the affairs of the 
nati ^n, could not descend to examine into the particulars 
of a bill of a vender of rum in the small way. 


CHAPTElt XXIV. 


3The Colonel loses his election—How it happened—Political perg&. 
cut ion and corruption—'The Colonel’s opinions and sentiments on 
political affairs—Where the public money goes—Anecdote—The 
Colonel’s parting blessing to his constituents—Ho resolves to go 
to Texas, and engage in the war for its Independence—Specimen 
of the Colonel’s poetry. 

August 11, 1835. I am now at home in Weakley 
county. My canvass is over, and the result is known. 
Contrary to all expectation, I am beaten two hundred 
and thirty votes, from the best information I can get; 
and in this instance, I may say, had is the best. My 
mantle has fallen upon the shoulders of Adam, and I 
hope he may wear it with becoming dignity, and never 
lose sight of the welfare of the nation, for the purpose 
of elevating a few designing politicians to the head of the 
heap. The rotten policy pursued by “ the Government’* 
cannot last long; it will either work its own downfall, 
or the downfall of the republic, soon, unless the people 
tear the seal from their eyes, and behold their danger 
time enough to avert the ruin. 

I wish to inform the people of these United States 
what I had to contend against, trusting that the expose 
I shall make, will be a caution to the people not to re¬ 
pose too much power in the hands of a single man, 

though he should be “ the greatest and the best.” I had, 
(246 ) 


POLITICAL PERSECUTION. 


247 


as f have already said, Mr. Adam Huntsman for my 
competitor, aided by the popularity of both Andrew 
Jackson and Governor Carroll, and the whole strength 
of the Union Bank at Jackson. I have been told by 
good men, that some of the managers of the bank on the 
days of the election were heard say, that they would 
give twenty-five dollars a vote for votes enough to elect 
Mr. Huntsman. This is a pretty good price for a vote, 
and in ordinary times a round dozen might be got for 
the money. 

I have always believed, since Jackson removed the 
deposites, that his whole object was to place the treasury 
where he could use it to influence elections; and I do 
believe he is determined to sacrifice every dollar of the 
treasury, to make the Little Flying Dutchman his suc¬ 
cessor. If this is not my creed, I wish I may be shot. 
For fourteen years since I have been a candidate, I never 
iaw such means used to defeat any candidate, as were 
put in practice against me on this occasion. There was 
a disciplined band of judges and officers to hold the elec¬ 
tions at almost every poll. Of late years they begin to 
find out that there’s an advantage in this, even in the 
west. Some officers held the election, and at the same 
time had nearly all they were worth bet on the election. 
Such judges, I should take it, are like the handle of a jug, all 
on one side; and I am told it doesn’t require much school¬ 
ing to make the tally list correspond to a notch with the 
ballot box, provided they who make up the returns have 
enough loose tickets in their breeches pockets. I havo 
no doubt tha*- I was completely rascalled out of my eleo 


248 


POLITICAL CORRUPTION. 


tion, and I do regret that duty to myself and to my 
country compels me to expose such villainy. 

Well might Governor Poindexter exclaim—“Ah! my 
country, what degradation thou hast fallen into !** An¬ 
drew Jackson was, during my election canvass, franking 
the extra Globe with a prospectus in it to every post- 
office in this district, and upon one occasion he had my 
mileage and pay as a member drawn up and sent to this 
district, to one of his minions, to have it published just a 
few days before the election. This is what I call small 
potatoes and a few of a hill. He stated that I had 
charged mileage for one thousand miles and that it w r as 
but seven hundred and fifty miles, and held out the idea 
that I had taken pay for the same mileage that Mr. 
Fitzgerald had taken, when it was well known that he 
charged thirteen hundred miles from here to Washington, 
and he and myself both live in the same county. It is 
somewhat remarkable how this fact should have escaped 
the keen eye of “the Government.” 

The general’s pet, Mr. Grundy, charged for one thou¬ 
sand miles from Nashville to Washington, and it was 
sanctioned by the Legislature, I suppose because he would 
huzza! for Jackson; and because I think proper to re¬ 
frain from huzzaing until he goes out of office, when I 
shall give a screamer, that will be heard from the Missis¬ 
sippi to the Atlantic, or my name’s not Crockett—for 
this reason he came out openly to electioneer against me. 
I now say, that the oldest man living never heard of the 
Presiient of a great nation to come down to open eleo- 
ti meering for his successor. It is treating the nation as 
if it was the property of a single individual, and he had 


CROCKETT’S POLITICAL SENTIMENTS. 249 

the right to bequeath it to whom he pleased—the same 
as a patch of land for which he had the patent. It is 
plain to be seen that the poor superannuated old man is 
surrounded by a set of horse leeches, who will stick to 
him while there is a drop of blood to be got, and their 
maws are so capacious that they will never get full 
enough to drop off. The Land office, the Post office, and 
the Treasury itself may all be drained, and we shall still 
find them craving for more. They use him to promote 
their own private interests, and for all his sharp sight, 
he remains as blind as a dead lion to the jackals who are 
tearing him to pieces. In fact, I do believe he is a per¬ 
fect tool in their hands, ready to be used to answer any 
purpose to promote either their interest or gratify their 
ambition. 

I came within two hundred and thirty votes of being 
elected, notwithstanding I had to contend against “ the 
greatest and the best,” with the whole power of the 
Treasury against me. The Little Flying Dutchman will 
no doubt calculate upon having a true game cock in Mr. 
Huntsman, but if he doesn’t show them the white feather 
before the first session is over, I agree never to be set 
down for a prophet, that’s all. I am gratified that I have 
spoken the truth to the people of my district regardless 
of consequences. I would not be compelled to bow down 
to the idol for a seat in Congress during life. I have 
never known what it was to sacrifice my own judgment 
tc gratify any party, and I have no doubt of the time 
being close at hand when I will be rewarded for letting 
my tongue speak what my heart thinks. I have suffered 
myself to be politically sacrificed to save my country 


250 CROCKETT MEETS HIS CONSTITUENTS. 

from ruin and disgrace, and if I am never again elected, 
I will have the gratification to know that I have done my 
duty. Thus much I say in relation to the manner in 
which my downfall was effected, and in laying it before 
the public, “ I take the responsibility.” I may add in 
the words of the man in the play, “ Crockett’s occupa¬ 
tion’s gone.” 

Two weeks and more have elapsed since I wrote the 
foregoing account of my defeat, and I confess the thorn 
still rankles, not so much on my own account as the na¬ 
tion’s, for I had set my heart on following up the travel¬ 
ing deposites until they should be fairly gathered to 
their proper nest, like young chickens, for I am aware 
of the vermin that are on the constant look out to pounce 
upon them, like a cock at a blackberry, which they would 
have done long since, if it had not been for a few such 
men as Webster, Clay, and myself. It is my parting 
advice, that this matter be attended to without delay, for 
before long the little chickens will take wing, and even 
the powerful wand of the magician of Kinderhook will 
be unable to point out the course they have flown. 

As my country no longer requires my services, I have 
made up my mind to go to Texas. My life has been 
one of danger, toil, and privation, but these difficulties 
I had to encounter at a time when I considered it noth¬ 
ing nnre than right good sport to surmount them; but 
now I start anew upon my own hook, and God only grant 
that it may be strong enough to support the weight 
that may be hung upon it. I have a new row to hoe, a 
long and rough one, but come what will I’ll go ahead. 

A few days ago I went to a meeting of my constitu- 


WHERE THE PUBLIC MONEY GOES. 251 

ents. My appetite for politics was at one time just 
about as sharp set as a saw mill, but late events have 
given me something of a surfeit, more than I could well 
digest; still habit they say is second natur, and so I 
went, and gave them a piece of my mind touching “ the 
Government” and the succession, by way of a codicil to 
what I have often said before. 

I told them to keep a sharp lookout for the deposites, 
for it requires an eye as insinuating as a dissecting knife 
to see what safety there is in placing one million of the 
public funds in some little country shaving shop with no 
more than one hundred thousand dollars capital. This 
bank, we will just suppose, without being too particular, 
is in the neighborhood of some of the public lands, where 
speculators, who have every thing to gain and nothing to 
lose, swarm like crows about carrion. They buy the 
United States’ land upon a large scale, get discounts 
from the aforesaid shaving shop, which are made upon a 
large scale also upon the United States’ funds; they 
pay the whole purchase money with these discounts, 
and get a clear title to the land, so that when the 
shaving shop comes to make a Flemish account of her 
transactions, “the Government” will discover that he 
has not only lost the original deposite, but a large 
portion of the public lands to boot. So much for 
taking the responsibility. 

I told them that they were hurrying along a broa l 
M’Adamized road to make the Little Flying Dutchman 
the successor, but they would no sooner accomplish that 
end than they would be obliged to buckle to. and drag 
the Juggernaut through many narrow and winding and 


252 


ANECDOTE. 


out-of-th(M\ ay paths, and hub deep in the mhe. That 
they reminded me of the Hibernian, who bet a glass of 
grog with a hod carrier that he could not carry him in 
his hod up a ladder to the third story of a new building 
lie seated himself in the hod, and the other mounted the 
ladder with his load upon his shoulder. He ascended to 
the second story pretty steadily, but as he approached 
the third his strength failed him, he began to totter, and 
Pat was so delighted at the prospect of winning his bet, 
that he clapped his hands and shouted, “By the powers, 
the grog’s mine,” and he made such a stir in the hod, 
that I wish I may be shot if he didn’t win it, but he 
broke his neck in the fall. And so I told my constitu¬ 
ents that they might possibly gain the victory, but in 
doing so, they would ruin their country. 

I told them, moreover, of my services, pretty straight 
up and down, for a man may be allowed to speak on 
such subjects when others are about to forget them ; and 
I also told them of the manner in which I had been 
knocked down and dragged out, and that I did not con¬ 
sider it a fair fight any how they could fix it. I put the 
ingredients in the cup pretty strong I tell you, and I con¬ 
cluded my speech by telling them that I was done with 
politics for the present, and that they might all go to 
hell, and I would go to Texas. 

When I returned home I felt a sort of cast down at 
the change that had taken place in my fortunes, and sor^ 
row, it is said, will make even an oyster feel poetical. 1 
never tried my hand at that sort of writing, but on this 
particular occasion such was my state of feeling, that I 


CROCKETT’S PARTING BLESSING. 


253 


began to fancy myself inspired, so I took pen in hand, 
and as usual I went ahead. When I had got fairly 
through, my poetry looked as zigzag as a worm fence; 
the lines wouldn’t tally no how; so I showed them to 
Feleg Longfellow, who has a first rate reputation with us 
for that sort of writing, having some years ago made a 
carrier’s address for the Nashville Banner, and Peleg 
lopped off some lines, and stretched out others; but I 
wish I may be shot if I don’t rather think he has made 
it worse than it was when I placed it in his hands. It 
being my first, aud, no doubt, last piece of poetry, I will 
print it in this place, as it will serve to express my feel¬ 
ings on leaving my home, my neighbors, and friends and 
country, for a strange land, as fully as I could in pVm 
j.ro'w\ 


Farewell to the mountains whose mazes to me 
Were more beautiful far than Eden could be; 

No fruit was forbidden, but Nature had spread 
Her bountiful board, and her children were fed. 

The hills were our garners—our herds wildly grew, 
And Nature was shepherd and husbandman too. 

1 felt like a monarch, yet thought like a man, 

As I thanked the Great Giver, and worshiped his plan. 

The home I forsake where my offspring arose; 

The graves I forsake where my children repose. 

The home I redeemed from the savage and wild : 

The home I have loved as a father his child ; 

The corn that I planted, the fields that I cleared, 

The flocks that I raised, and the cabin I reared; 

The wife of my bosom—Farewell to ye all 1 
In the laud of the stranger I rise or I fall. 


254 


CROCKETT A POET. 


Farewell to my country !—I fought for thee well, 

When the savage rushed forth like the demons from hell. 

In peace or in war I have stood by thy side— 

My country, for thee I have lived—would have died I 
But I am cast off—my career now is run 
Apd I wander abroad like the prodigal son— 

Where the wild savage roves, and the broad prairies sprend, 
The fallen—despised—will again go ahead !* 

* The Colonel’s resolution to go to Texas was the nataral result ot 
his defeat in the election canvass. His experience of public life, and 
his brilliant triumphs in the North, had given him an appetiis for dis¬ 
tinction and applause. Defeated in his expectations of returning to 
Congress, he now sought a new field of usefulness and renown. The 
sequel gave him additional glory, but he did not survive to witness 
the triuritph of the Texans, or to reap, like General Houston, the re¬ 
wards of his courage and public spirit. 


CHAPTER XXV. 


The Colonel starts for Texas—Amusing incident of the man figM 
ing with his own shadow—Crockett arrives at Little Rock—The 
Puppet showman—Disappointment—Threats of Lynch Low—The 
Bookseller who becomes Fiddler to the Puppet show—Moral of a 
Puppet show. 

In my last chapter I made mention of my determina¬ 
tion to cut and quit the States until such time as honest 
and independent men should again work their way to the 
head of the heap ; and as I should probably have some 
idle time on hand before that state of affairs shall he 
brought about, I promised to give the Texians a helping 
hand on the high road to freedom. Well, I was always 
fond of having my spoon in a mess of that kind, for if 
there is anything in this world particularly worth living 
for, it is freedom ; anything that would render death to 
a brave man particularly pleasant, it is freedom. 

I am now on my journey, and have already tortled 
along as far as Little Rock, on the Arkansas, about one 
hundred and twenty-five miles from the mouth. I had 
promised to write another book, expecting, when I made 
that promise, to write about politics, and use up u the 
Government,” his successor, the removal of the depos- 
ites, and so on, matters and things that como as natural 

to me as bear hunting; but being rascalled out of my 

i 255 ) 


256 


STARTS FOR TEXAS. 


election, I am taken all aback, and I must now strike 
into a new path altogether. Still I will redeem my pro¬ 
mise and make a book, and it shall be about my adven¬ 
tures in Texas, hoping that my friends, Messrs. Webster, 
and Clay, and Biddle, will keep a sharp lockout upon 
w the Government ” during my absence—I a n told that 
every author of distinction writes a book of travels now- 
a-days. 

My thermometer stood somewhat below the freezing 
point as I left my wife and children ; still there was 
some thawing about the eyelids, a thing that had not 
taken place since I first ran away from my father’s house 
when a thoughtless vagabond boy. I dressed myself in 
a clean hunting shirt, put on a new fox-skin cap with the 
tail hanging behind, took hold of my rifle Betsey, which 
all the world knows was presented to me by the patri¬ 
otic citizens of Philadelphia, as a compliment for my un¬ 
flinching opposition to the tyrannic measures of “ the 
Government,” and thus equipped, I started off with a 
heavy heart for Mill’s Point, to take steamboat down the 
Mississippi, and go ahead in a new world. 

While walking along, and thinking whether it was al¬ 
together the right grit to leave my poor country at a 
time she most needed my services, I came to a clearing, 
and I was slowly rising a slope, when I was startled by 
ioud, profane, and boisterous voices, (as loud and profane 
as have been heard in the White House of late years,) 
which seemed to proceed from a thick covert of under¬ 
growth, about two hundred yards in advance of me, and 
about one hundred to the right of my road. 

“ You kin, kin you V' 


GREAT ALARM 


257 


M Yes, I kin, and am able to do it! Boo-oo-oo !— 0 ! 
wake snakes, and walk your chalks ! Brimstone and 

-fire ! Don’t hold me, Nick Stoval! The fight's 

made up, and let’s go at it. -my soul if I don’t 

jump down his throat and gallop every chitterling out 
of him, before you can say ‘quit!’ ” 

“Now, Nick, don’t hold him! Jist let the wild cat 
come, and I’ll tame him. Ned will see me a fair fight— 
won’t you, Ned?” 

“ Oh! yes, I’ll see you a fair fight' blast my old 
Bhoes if I don’t.” 

“ That’s sufficient, as Tom Haynes said, when he saw 
the elephant. Now let him come.” 

Thus they went on, with countless oaths interspersed, 
which I dare not even hint at, and with much that I 
could not distinctly hear. 

In mercy’s name ! thought I, what a band of ruffians 
is at work here! I quickened my gait, and had come 
nearly opposite to the thick grove whence the noise pro¬ 
ceeded, when my eye caught indistinctly, through the 
foliage of the dwarf oaks and hickories that intervened, 
glimpses of a man or men, who seemed to be on a vio¬ 
lent struggle ; and I could occasionally catch those deep- 
drawn, emphatic oaths, which men in conflict utter, when 
they deal blows. I hurried to the spot, but before I 
reached it, I saw the combatants come to the ground, 
and after a short struggle, I saw the uppermost one (for 
I could not see the other) make a heavy plunge with both 
his thumbs, and at the same instant I heard a cry in tha 
accent of keenest torture, “Enough ! my eye is out!” 

I stood completely horror-struck for a moment. The 
17 


258 


GREAT FIGHT. 


accomplices in the brutal deed had all fled at my ap* 
proaeh; at least I supposed so, for they were not to be 
scon. 

“ Now, blast your corn-shucking soul,” said the 'victor, 
a lad of about eighteen, as he rose from the ground, 
“come cuttin’ your shines ’bout me -agin, next time I 
come to the Court House, will you? Get your owl-eye 
in agin, if you can.” 

At this moment he saw me for the first time. IIo 
looked as though he couldn’t help it, and was for making 
himself particularly scarce, when I called to him, “ Como 
back, you brute, and assist me in relieving the poor 
crittur you have ruined for ever.” 

Upon this rough salutation, he sort of collected him¬ 
self, and with a taunting curl of the nose he replied, 
“ You needn’t kick before you’re spurr’d. There ain’t 
nobody there, nor hain’t been, nother. I was jist a 
seein’ how I could a fout.” So saying, he bounded to 
his plough, which stood in the corner of the fence about 
fifty yards from the battle ground. 

Now would any man in his senses believe that a 
rational being could make such a darned fool of himself? 
but I wish I may be shot, if his report was not as true 
as the last post-office report, every word, and a little 
more satisfactory. All that I had heard and seen was 
nothing more nor less than what is called a rehearsal 
of a knock-down and drag-out fight, in which the young 
man had played all the parts, for his own amusement, 
and by way of keeping his hand in. I went to the 
grounl from which he had risen, and there were the 
Drints of his two thumbs, plunged up to the balls in *he 


ARRIVES AT LITTLE ROCK. 


259 


mellow earth, about the distance of a man’s eyes apart, 
and the ground around was broken up, as if two stags 
had been engaged upon it. 

As I resumed my journey I laughed outright at this 
adventure, for it reminded me of Andrew Jackson’s 
attack upon the United States Bank. He had magnified 
it into a monster, and then began to rip and tear, and 
swear and gouge, until he thought he had the monster 
on its back; and when the fight was over, and he got 
up to look about for his enemy, he could find none for 
the soul of him, for his enemy was altogether in his 
heated imagination. These fighting characters are never 
at peace, unless they have something to quarrel with, 
and rather than have no fight at all, they will trample 
on their own shadows. 

The day I arrived at Little Bock, I no sooner quit 
the steamer than I streaked it straight ahead for the 
principal tavern, which is nothing to boast of, no how, 
unless a man happens to be like the member of Congress 
from the south, who was converted to Jacksonism, and 
then made a speech as long as the longitude about his 
political honesty. Some men, it seems, take a pride in 
saying a great deal about nothing—like windmills, their 
tongues must be going whether they have any grist to 
grind or not. This is all very well in Congress, whero 
every member is expected to make a speech, to let his 
constituents know that some things can be done as well 
as others: but I set it down as being rather an imposi¬ 
tion upon good nature to be compelled to listen, without 
receiving the consideration of eight dollars per day, be¬ 
sides mileage, as we do in Congress. Many members 


PUPPET SHOW. 


*60 

will io nothing else for their pay but listen, day in anil 
day out, and I wish I may be shot, if they do not earn 
every penny of it, provided they don’t sleep, or Benton 
or little Isaac Hill will spin their yarns but once in a 
week. No man who has not tried it can imagine what 
dreadful hard work it is to listen. Splitting gum logs 
vn the dog days is child’s play to it. I’ve tried both, 
and give the preference to the gum logs. 

Well, as I said, I made straight for the tavern, and 
as I drew nigh, I saw a considerable crowd assembled 
before the door. So, thought I, they have heard that 
Colonel Crockett intended to pay a visit to their settle¬ 
ment, and they have already got together to receive 
him in due form. I confess I felt a little elated at the 
idea, and commenced ransacking the lumber room of 
my brain, to find some one of my speeches that I might 
furbish up for the occasion; and then I shouldered my 
Betsey, straightened myself, and walked up to the door, 
charged to the muzzle and ready to let fly. 

But, strange as it may seem, no one took any more 
notice of me, than if I had been Martin Van Buren, or 
Dick Johnson, the celebrated wool grower. This took 
me somewhat aback, and I inquired what was the mean¬ 
ing of the gathering; and I learnt that a traveling 
showman had just arrived, and was about to exhibit for 
the first time the wonderful feats of Harlequin, and 
Punch, and Judy, to the impatient natives. It was 
drawing towards nightfall, and expectation was on tip¬ 
toe : the children were clinging to their mothers’ aprons, 
with their chubby faces dimpled with delight, and asking, 
'‘What is it like? When will it begin?” and similar 


THREAT OF LYNCHING. 


261 


questions, while the women, as all good wives are in 
duty hound to do, appealed to their husbands for infor 
mation; but the call for information was responded to 
in this instance, as is sometimes the case in Congress; 
their husbands understood the matter about as well as 
u the government” did the post-office accounts. 

The showman at length made his appearance, with a 
countenance as wo-begone as that of “the government” 
when he found his batch of dirty nominations rejected 
by the Senate, and mentioned the impossibility that any 
performance should take place that evening, as the lame 
fiddler had overcharged his head, and having but one 
leg at best, it did not require much to destroy his equi¬ 
librium. And, as all the world knows, a puppet show 
without a fiddle is like roast pork and no apple sauce. 
This piece of intelligence was received with a general 
murmur of dissatisfaction; and such was the indignation 
of his majesty, the sovereign people, at being thwarted 
in his rational amusements, that according to the estab¬ 
lished custom in such cases made and provided, there 
were some symptoms of a disposition to kick up a row, 
break the show, and finish the amusements of the day 
by putting Lynch’s law in practice upon the poor show¬ 
man. There is nothing like upholding the dignity of 
the people, and so Lieut. Randolph thought, when with 
his cowardly and sacrilegious hand he dared to profane 
the anointed nose of “the government,” and bring the 
whole nation into contempt. If I had been present, 
may disgrace follow my career in Texas, if I wouldn’t 
have become a whole hog Jackson man upon the spot, 
for the time being, for the nose of “the government” 


262 


THE BOOKSELLER. 


should be held more sacred than any other member, that 
it may be kept in good order to smell out all the corrup-. 
tion that is going forward—not a very pleasant office, 
and by no means a sinecure. 

The indignant people, as I have already said, were 
about to exercise their reserved' rights upon the unlucky 
showman, and Punch and Judy too, when, as good for¬ 
tune would have it, an old gentleman drove up to tho 
tavern door in a sulky, with a box of books and pam¬ 
phlets of his own composition—(for he was an author, 
like myself)—thus being able to vouch for the moral 
tendency of every page he disposed of. Very few book¬ 
sellers can do the same, I take it. His linen and flan¬ 
nels, which he had washed in the brooks by the "wayside, 
■were hanging over the back of the crazy vehicle to dry, 
while his own snuffy countenance had long bid defiance 
to sun, wind, and water, to bleach it. 

His jaded beast stopped instinctively upon seeing a 
crowd, while the old man remained seated for some mo¬ 
ments before he could recall his thoughts from the world 
of imagination, where they were gleaning for the benefit 
of mankind. He looked, it must be confessed, more 
like a lunatic than a moral lecturer ; but being conscious 
of his own rectitude, he could not conceive how his out¬ 
ward Adam could make him ridiculous in the eyes of 
another; but a fair outside is everything to the world 
The tulip flower is highly prized, although indebted for 
it3 beauty to the corruption engendered at the r.ot; and 
so it is with man. 

AV T e occasionally meet with one possessing sufficient 
philosophy to look upon life as a pilgrimage, and not aa 


THE BOOKSELLER. 


263 


ft mere lound of pleasure :—who, treating this world as 
a place of probation, is ready to encounter suffering, 
and not expecting the sunshine of prosperity, escapes 
being overclouded by disappointment. Such is the cha¬ 
racter of the old preacher, whose ridiculous appearance 
in the eyes of the thoughtless and ignorant is only ex¬ 
ceeded by the respect and veneration of those who are 
capable of estimating his real worth. I learnt that he 
was educated for the church, but not being able to 
obtain a living, he looked upon the whole earth as his 
altar, and all mankind as his flock. He was penniless, 
and therefore had no predilection for this or that section 
of the globe, for wherever he might be, his journey of 
probation still continued, and in every spot he found 
that human nature was the same. His life was literally 
that of a pilgrim. He was an isolated being, though his 
heart overflowed with the milk of human kindness; for 
being indiscriminate in his affection, very few valued it.. 
He who commences the world with a general love for 
mankind, and suffers his feelings to dictate to his reason, 
runs a great hazard of reaping a plentiful harvest of 
ingratitude, and of closing a tedious existence in misan¬ 
thropy. But it was not so with the aged preacher. 

Being unable to earn his bread as an itinerant lec¬ 
turer,—for in those cases it is mostly poor preach and 
worse pay—he turned author and wrote histories whh h 
contained but little information, and sermons which, Kke 
many others, had nothing to boast of, beyond being strictly 
orthodox. He succeeded in obtaining a sulky, and a 
horse to drag it, by a plea of mercy, which deprived the 
hounds of their food, and with these he traveled over tna 


264 


DISINTERESTED BENEVOLENCE. 


western states, to dispose of the product of his brain; 
and when poverty was deprived of the benefit of his la¬ 
bor, in the benevolence of his heart he would deliver a 
moral lecture, which had the usual weight of homilies on 
this subject. A lecture is the cheapest thing that a man 
can bestow in charity, and many of our universal philan¬ 
thropists have made the discovery. 

The landlord now made his appearance, and gave a 
hearty welcome to the reverend traveler, and shaking 
him by the hand, added, that he never came more oppor¬ 
tunely in all his life. 

“ Opportunely ! ” exclaimed the philosopher. 

“Yes,” rejoined the other; “you have a heart and 
head that labor for the benefit of us poor mortals.’’ 

“ Oh! true, an excellent market for my pamphlets,” 
replied the other, at the same time beginning to open the 
trunk that lay before him. 

“You misunderstand me,” added the landlord. “A 
poor showman with a sick' wife and five children has ar¬ 
rived from New Orleans —-” 

“ I will sell my pamphlets to relieve their wants, and 
endeavor to teach them resignation.” 

“ He exhibits to-night in my large room: you know 
the room, sir—I let him have it gratis.” 

“ YVu are an honest fellow. I will witness his show, 
and add my mite to his assistance.” 

“ But,” replied the innkeeper, “ the lame fiddler is 
fond of the bottle, and is now snoring in the hayloft.” 

“Degrading vice!” exclaimed the old man, and tak¬ 
ing “God’s Revenge against Drunkenness” from the 
crunk, and standing erect in the sulky, he commenced 



FIDDLING. 


263 


reading to his astonished audience. The innkeeper inter¬ 
rupted him by observing that the homily would not fill 
the empty purse of the poor showman, and unless a fid¬ 
dler could be obtained, he must depend on charity, or go 
suppcrless to bed. And moreover, the people, irritated 
at their disappointment, had threatened to tear the uhow 
to pieces. 

“But what’s to be done?” demanded the parson. 

“Your reverence shakes an excellent bow,” added the 
innkeeper, in an insinuating tone. 

“I!” exclaimed the parson; “I fiddle for a puppet 
show! ” 

“ Not for the puppet show, but for the sick w T ife and 
five hungry children.” 

A tear started into the eyes of the old man, as he 
added in an under tone, “ If I could be concealed from 
the audience-” 

“Nothing easier,” cried the other; “we will place 
you behind the scenes, and no one will ever dream that 
you fiddled at a puppet show.” 

The matter being thus settled, they entered the house, 
and shortly afterward the sound of a fiddle squeaking 
like a giggling girl, tickled into ecstasies, restored mirth 
aai good humor to the disappointed assemblage, who 
rushed in, helter-skelter, to enjoy the exhibition. 

All being seated, and silence restored, they -waited in 
breathless expectation for the rising of the curtain. At 
length Harlequin made his appearance, and performed 
astonishing feats of activity on the slack rope; turning 
somersets backward and forward, first on this side, ar.d 
then on that, with as much ease as if he had been a poli 


266 


MORAL OF A PUPPET SHOW. 


tician all his life,—the parson sawing vigorously on his 
fiddle all the time. Punch followed, and set the audience 
in a roar with his antic tricks and jests ; but when Judy 
entered with her broomstick the burst of applause was 
as great as ever I heard bestowed upon one of Benton's 
slang-whang speeches in Congress, and I rather think 
quite as well merited. 

As the plot thickened, the music of the parson became 
more animated ; but unluckily in the warmth of his zeal 
to do justice to his station, his elbow touched the side 
scene, which fell* to the floor, and exposed him, working 
away in all the ecstasies of little Isaac Hill, while read¬ 
ing one of his long orations about things in general to 
empty benches. No ways disconcerted by the accident, 
the parson seized upon it as a fine opportunity of con¬ 
veying a lesson to those around him, at the same time 
that he might benefit a fellow mortal. He immediately 
mounted the chair upon which he was seated, and ad¬ 
dressed the audience to the following effect: 

“ Many of you have come here for amusement, and 
others no doubt to assist the poor man, who is thus strug¬ 
gling to obtain a subsistence for his sick wife and chil¬ 
dren. Lo ! the moral of a puppet show! But is this 
all ? Has he not rendered unto you your money’s worth ? 
This is not charity. If you are charitably inclined, here 
is an object fully deserving of it.” 

He preached upon this text for full half an hour, and 
concluded with taking his hat to collect assistance from 
Us hearers for the friendless showman and his family. 

The next morning, when his sulky was brought to the 


MORAL OF A PUPPET SHOW. 


2G7 


door, the showman and his wife came out to thank their 
benefactor. The old man placed his trunk of pampnlets 
before him, and proceeded on his pilgrimage, the little 
children following him through the village with bursts 
of gratitude. 


CHAPTER XXVi. 


Croeko t offered a public dinner by the citizens of Little Rock- 
Thinks he will decline—The landlord shows him his larder-—The 
Colonel accepts—Rifle shooting—Cute trick—The Dinner—The 
Colonel’s speech—He tells the Little Rock politicians how to get 
office—A jolly evening. 

Tiie public mind having been quieted by the exhibi¬ 
tion of the puppet show, and allowed to return to its 
usual channel, it was not long before the good people of 
Little Rock began to inquire what distinguished stranger 
had come among them; and learning that it was neither 
more nor less than the identical Colonel Crockett, the 
champion of the fugitive deposites, than straight they 
went ahead at getting up another tempest in a teapot; 
and I wish I may be shot, if I wasn’t looked upon as 
almost as great a sight as Punch and Judy. 

Nothing would answer, but I must accept of an invita¬ 
tion to a public dinner. Now as public dinners have 
become so common, that it is enough to take away the 
appetite of any man, who has a proper sense of his 
own importance, to sit down and play his part in the 
humbug business, I had made up my mind to write a letter 
declining the honour, expressing my regret, and winding 
up with a flourish of trumpets about the patriotism of the 
citizens of Little Rock, and all that sort of thing; when 
( 268 ) 



THE LARDER. 


269 


the landlord came in, and says he, “ Colonel, just oblige 
me by stepping into the back yard a moment.” 

I followed the landlord in silence, twisting and turning 
3ver in my brain, all the while, what I should say in my 
*ctter to the patriotic citizens of Little Rock, who were 
bent on eating a dinner for the good of their country ; 
when he conducted me to a shed in the yard, where I 
beheld, hanging up, a fine fat cub bear, several huunche.s 
of venison, a wild turkey as big as a young ostrich, and 
small game too tedious to mention. “ Well, Colonel, 
what do you think of my larder?” says he. “Fine!” 
says I. “Let us liquor.” We walked back to the bar. 
I took a horn, and without loss of time I wrote to the 
committee, that I accepted of the invitation to a public 
dinner with pleasure,—that I would be always found 
ready to serve my country, either by eating or fasting; 
and that the honor the patriotic citizens of Little Rock 
had conferred upon me, rendered it the proudest moment 
of my eventful life. The chairman of the committee 
was standing by while I wrote the letter, which I handed 
to him; and so this important business was soon settled. 

As there was considerable time to be killed, or got rid 
of in some w T ay, before the dinner could be cooked, it 
■was proposed that we should go beyond the village, and 
shoot at a mark, for they had heard I was a first-rate 
shot, and they wanted to see for themselves, whether 
fame had not blown her trumpet a little too strong in 
my favor: for since she had represented “ the Govern- 
ment” as being a first-rate statesman, and Colonel Ben¬ 
ton as a first rate orator, they could not receive such re- 


270 


RIFLE SHOOTING. 


ports without proper allowance, as Congress thought of 
the Post Office report. 

Well, I shouldered my Betsey, and she is just about as 
beautiful a piece as ever came out of Philadelphia, and I 
went out to the shooting ground, followed by all the 
leading men in Little Rock, and that was a clear major¬ 
ity of the town, for it is remarkable, that there are al¬ 
ways more leading men in small villages than there are 
followers. 

I was in prime order. My eye was as keen as a liz¬ 
ard, and my nerves were as steady and unshaken as the 
political course of Henry Clay; so at it we went, the 
distance, one hundred yards. The principal marksmen, 
and such as had never been beat, led the way, and there 
was some pretty fair shooting, I tell you. At length it 
came to my turn. I squared myself, raised my beautiful 
Betsey to my shoulder, took deliberate aim, and smack 
I sent the bullet right into the centre of the bull’s eye. 
“ There’s no mistake in Betsey,” said I, in a sort of care¬ 
less way, as they were all looking at the target, sort of 
amazed, and not at all over pleased. 

“That’s a chance shot, Colonel,” said one who had 
the reputation of being the best marksman in those parts. 

“Not as much chance as there was,” said I, “when 
Dick Johnson took his darkie for better for worse. I 
can do it five times out of six any day in the week.” 
This I said in as confident a tone as “ the Government” 
did, when he protested that he forgave Colonel Beni on 
for shooting him, and he was now the best friend he had 
m the world. I knew it was not altogether as correct 
as it might be, but when a man sets about going the big 


CUTE TRICK. 


271 


figure, halfway measures won’t answer no how ; and “the 
greatest and the best” had set me the example, that 
swaggering will answer a good purpose at times. 

They now proposed that we should have a second 
trial; but knowing that I had nothing to gain and every 
thing to lose, I was for backing out and fighting shy; 
but there was no let-off, for the cock of the village, 
though whipped, determined not to stay whipped; so to 
it again we went. They were now put upon their mettle, 
and they fired much better than the first time; and it 
was what might be called pretty sharp shooting. When 
it came to my turn, I squared myself, and turning to the 
prime shot, I gave him a knowing nod, by way of show¬ 
ing my confidence; and says I, “ Look out for the bull’s 
eye, stranger.” I blazed away, and I wish I may be 
shot if I didn’t miss the target. They examined it all 
over, and could find neither hair nor hide of my bullet, 
and pronounced it a dead miss ; when says I, “ Stand 
aside and let me look, and I warrant you I get on the 
right trail of the critter.” They stood aside, and I ex¬ 
amined the bull’s eye pretty particular, and at length 
cried out, “ Here it is ; there is no snakes if it ha’n’t fol¬ 
lowed the very track of the other.” They said it was 
utterly impossible, but I insisted on their searching the 
hole, and I agreed to be stuck up as a mark myself, 
if they did net find two bullets there. They searched 
for my satisfaction, and sure enough it all come out just 
as 1 had told them; for I had picked up a bullet that 
ha 1 been fired, and stuck it deep into the hole, without 
any one perceiving it. They were all perfectly satisfied, 
that fame had not made too great a flourish cf trumpets 


272 


THE DINNER. 


when speaking of me as a marksman; and they all said 
they had enough of shooting for that day, and they 
moved, that we adjourn to the tavern and liquor. 

We had scarcely taken drinks round before the land¬ 
lord announced that dinner was ready, and I was es¬ 
corted into the dining room by the committee, to the 
tune of “ See the conquering hero comes,” played upon 
a drum, which had been beaten until it got a fit of the 
sullens, and refused to send forth any sound; and it was 
accompanied by the wheazing of a fife that was sadly 
troubled with a spell of the asthma. I was escorted into 
the dining room, I say, somewhat after the same fashion that 
“ the Government” was escorted into the different cities 
when he made his northern tour; the only difference was, 
that I had no sycophants about me, but true hearted 
hospitable friends, for it was pretty well known that I 
had, for the present, abandoned ,all intention of running 
for the Presidency against the Little Flying Dutchman. 

The dinner was first rate. The bear meat, the venison, 
and wild turkey would have tempted a man who had 
given over the business of eating altogether; and every 
thing was cooked to the notch precisely. The enter¬ 
prising landlord did himself immortal honor on this mo¬ 
mentous occasion; and the committee, thinking that he 
merited public thanks for his patriotic services, handed 
his name to posterity to look at in the lasting columns 
of the Little Rock Gazette; and when our children’s 
children behold it, they will think of the pure patriots who 
sat down in good fellowship to feast on the bear meat and 
venison ; and the enthusiasm the occasion is calculated to 
awaken will induce them to bless the patriot win, in a 


DINNER SPEECH. 


cause so glorious, spared no pains in cooking the dinner 
and serving it in a becoming manner. And this is fame ! 

The fragments of the meats being cleared off, we went 
through the customary evolution of drinking thirteen 
regular toasts, after every one of which our drum with 
the loose skin grumbled like an old horse with an empty 
stomach; and our asthmatic fife squeaked, like a stuck 
pig, a spirit-stirring tune, -which we put off christening 
until we should come to prepare our proceedings for pos¬ 
terity. The fife appeared to have but one tune in it; 
possibly it might have had more, but the poor fifer, with 
all his puffing and blowing, his too-too-tooing, and shak¬ 
ing his head and elbow, could not, for the body and soul 
of him, get more than one out of it. If the fife had had 
an extra tune to its name, sartin it wouldn’t have been quite 
so hide bound on such an occasion, but have let us have 
it, good, bad, or indifferent. We warn’t particular by no 
means. 

Having gone through with the regular toasts, the 
president of the day drank, “ Our distinguished guest, 
Col. Crockett,” which called forth a prodigious clatter¬ 
ing all around the table, and I soon saw that nothing 
would do, but I must get up and make them a speech. 
I had no sooner elongated my outward Adam, than they 
at it again, with renewed vigor, which made me sort of 
feel that I was still somebody, though no longer a mem* 
bcr of Congress. 

In my speech I went over the -whole history of the 
present administration; took a long shot at the flying 
deposites, and gave an outline, a sort of charcoal sketch, 
of the political life of “the Government’s” heir-presump- 


274 


HOW TO GET OFFICE. 


tive. I also let them know how I had been rascalled 
out of my election, because I refused to bow down to the 
idol; and as I saw a number of young politicians around 
the table, I told them, that I would lay down a few 
rules for their guidance, which, if properly attended to, 
could not fail to lead them on the highway to distinction 
and p'jbl’c honor. I told them, that I was an old hand 
at the busm^ss, and as I was about to retire for a time, 
I would give them a little instruction gratis, for I was 
lip to all the rricks of the trade, though I had practiced 
but few. 

“Attend all public meetings,” says I, “and get some 
friends to move that you take the chair ; if you fail in 
this attempt, make a push to be appointed secretary; 
the proceedings of coarse will be published, and your 
name is introduced to the public. But should you fail 
in botu undertakings, get two or three acquaintances, 
over a bottle of whiskey, to pass some resolutions, no 
matter on what subject; publish them even if you pay 
the printer—it will answer the purpose of breaking the 
ice, which is the main point in these matters. Intrigue 
until you are elected an officer of the militia; this is the 
second step towards promotion, and can be accomplished 
with ease, as I know an instance of an election being ad¬ 
vertised, and no one attending, the innkeeper at whose 
house it was to be held, having a military turn, elected 
himself colonel of his regiment.” Says I, “You may 
not accomplish your ends with as little difficulty, but do 
not be discouraged—Home w T asn’t built in a day. 

“ If your ambition or circumstances compel you to 
terve your country, and earn three dollars a day, by be- 


HOW TO GET OFFICE. 


275 


coming a member of the legislature, you must first pub¬ 
licly avow that the constitution of the state is a shackle 
upon free and liberal legislation; and is, therefore, of as 
little use in the present enlightened age, as an old 
almanac of the year in which the instrument was framed. 
There is policy in this measure, for by making the 
constitution a mere dead letter, your headlong proceed¬ 
ings will be attributed to a bold and unshackled mind , 
whereas, it might otherwise be thought they arose from 
sheer mulish ignorance. 4 The Government’ has set the 
example in his attack upon the constitution of the United 
States, and who should fear to follow where 4 the Gov¬ 
ernment’ leads ? 

44 When the day of election approaches, visit your con¬ 
stituents far and wide. Treat liberally, and drink free¬ 
ly, in order to rise in their estimation, though you fall in 
your own. True, you may be called a drunken dog by 
some of the clean shirt and silk stocking gentry, but the 
real rough necks will style you a jovial fellow, their 
votes are certain, and frequently count double. Do all 
you can to appear to advantage in the eyes of the wo¬ 
men. That’s easily done—you have but to kiss and 
slabber their children, wipe their noses, and pat them on 
the head; this cannot fail to please their mothers, and 
you may rely on your business being done in that 
quarter. 

44 Promise all that is asked,” said 1, 44 and more if you 
can think of any thing. Offer to build a bridge or a 
church, to divide a county, create a batch of new offices, 
make a turnpike, or any thing they like. Promises cost 


£76 


HOW TO GET OFFICE. 


nothing, therefore deny nobody who has a vote or suffi* 
cient influence to obtain one. 

“ Get up on all occasions, and sometimes on no occa¬ 
sion at all, and make long-winded speeches, though com¬ 
posed of nothing else than wind—talk of your devotion 
to your country, your modesty and disinterestedness, or 
on any such fanciful subject. Rail against taxes of all 
kinds, office-holders, and bad harvest weather; and wind 
up with a flourish about the heroes who fought and bled 
for our liberties in the times that tried men’s souls. To 
be sure you run the risk of being considered a bladder of 
wind, or an empty barrel, but never mind that, you will 
find enough of the same fraternity to keep you in coun¬ 
tenance. 

“ If any charity be going forward, be at the top of it, 
provided it is to be advertised publicly; if not, it isn’t 
worth your while. None but a fool would place liis can¬ 
dle under a bushel on such an occasion. 

“ These few directions,” said I, “if properly attended 
to, will do your business; and when once elected, why a 
fig for the dirty children, the promises, the bridges, the 
churches, the taxes, the offices, and the subscriptions, for 
it is absolutely necessary to forget all these before you 
can become a thorough-going politician, and a patriot of 
the first water.” 

My speech was received with three times three, and all 
that; and w T e continued speechifying and drinking until 
nightfall, when it was put to vote, that we would have 
the puppet show over again, which was carried ?iem. con . 
The show'man set his wires to work, just as “ the Govern¬ 
ment” does the machinery in his big puppet show; and 


A JOLLY EVENING. 


2TI 


le spent a delightful and rational evening. We raised 
a subscription for the poor showman; and I went to bed, 
pleased and gratified with the hospitality and kindness 
of the citizens of Little Rock. There are some first-rate 
men there, of the real half horse half alligator breed, 
with a sprinkling of the steamboat, and such as grow no- 
wnere on the face of the universal earth, but ju3t about 
the back bone of North America. 


CHAPTER XXVII. 


Western Hospitality—The Colonel takes leave of his Little RocK 
friends—Escorted on his way towards Texas—Tries for recruits for 
the Texan war, without success—Whimsical adventure of the fid¬ 
dling bookseller—Great utility of fiddling—Account of Arkansas— 
Eloquence of the parson—The parting—Specimen of impertinent 
curiosity baffled—Job Sneliing—Arrival at Fulton. 

The day after our public dinner I determined to leave 
my hospitable friends at Little Rock, and cross Arkansas 
to Fulton on the Red River, a distance of about one hun¬ 
dred and twenty miles. They wanted me to stay longer; 
and the gentleman who had the reputation of being the 
best marksman in those parts was most particularly anxi¬ 
ous that we should have another trial of skill; but says 
I to myself “ Crockett, you’ve had just about glory 
enough for one day, so take my advice and leave well 
enough alone.” I declined shooting, for there was 
nothing at all to be gained by it, and I might possibly 
lose some little of the reputation I had acquired. I have 
always found that it is a very important thing for a man 
who is fairly going ahead, to know exactly how far to go, 
and when to stop. Had “the Government” stopped be¬ 
fore he meddled with the constitution, the deposites, and 
“ taking the responsibility,” he would have retired from 
office with almost as much credit as he entered upon it* 
( 278 ) 


WESTERN HOSPITALITY 


279 


which is as much as any public man can reasonably ex¬ 
pect. But the General is a whole team, and when fairly 
started, will be going ahead; and one might as well at¬ 
tempt to twist a streak of lightning into a true lover’s 
knot as to stop him. 

Finding that I was bent on going, for I became impa¬ 
tient to get into Texas, my kind friends at Little Rock 
procured me a good horse to carry me across to Red Ri¬ 
ver. There are no bounds to the good feeling of the 
pioneers of the west ; they consider nothing a trouble 
that will confer a favor upon a stranger that they chance 
to take a fancy to: true, we are something like chesnut 
burs on the outside, rather prickly if touched roughly, 
but there’s good fruit within. 

My horse was brought to the door of the tavern, 
around which many of the villagers was assembled. The 
drum and fife were playing what was intended for a lively 
tune, but the skin of the drum still hung as loose as the 
hide of a fat man far gone in a consumption ; and the 
fife had not yet recovered from the asthma. The music 
sounded something like a fellow singing, “ Away with 
melancholy,” on the way to the gallows. I took my 
leave of the landlord, shook hands with the showman, 
who had done more than an average business, kissed his 
wife, who had recovered, and bidding farewell to all my 
kind hearted friends, I mounted my horse and left the 
village, accompanied by four or five gentlemen. The 
drum and fife now appeared to exert themselves, and 
made more noise than usual, while the crowd sent forth 
three cheers to encourage me on my way. 

I tried to raise some recruits for Texas among my 


280 


GOING TO TEXAS. 


companions, but they said they had their own affairs to 
attend to, which would keep them at home for the pre¬ 
sent, but no doubt they would come over and see us as 
soon as the disturbances should be settled. They looked 
upon Texas as being part of the United States, though 
the Mexicans did claim it; and they had no doubt the 
time was not very distant when it would be received into 
the glorious Union. 

My companions did not intend seeing me farther on 
my way than the Washita river, near fifty miles. Con¬ 
versation was pretty brisk, for we talked about the affairs 
of the nation and Texas ; subjects that are by no means 
to be exhausted, if one may judge by the long speeches 
made in Congress, where they talk year in and year out, 
and it would seem that as much still remains to be said 
as ever. As we drew nigh to the Washita, the silence 
was broken alone by our own talk and the clattering of 
our horses’ hoofs, and we imagined ourselves pretty much 
the only travelers, when we were suddenly somewhat 
startled by the sound of music. We checked our horses, 
and listened, and the music continued. “ What can all 
that mean?” says I. “Blast my old shoes if I know, 
Colonel,” says one of the party. We listened again, and 
we now heard, “ Hail Columbia, happy land!” played 
in first rate style. “That’s fine,” says I. “Fine as 
silk, Colonel, and a leetle finer,” says the other; “but 
hark, the tune’s changed.” We took another spell of 
listening, and now the musician struck up in a brisk and 
lively manner, “ Over the water to Charley.” “ That’s 
mighty mysterious,” says one; “ Can’t cipher it out no 
how,” says another; “A notch beyant my measure,” 


FIDDLER IN DANGER. 


281 


a* ys a third. “ Then let us go ahead,” says I, and off 
we dashed at a pretty rapid gait, I tell you—by no means 
slow. 

As we approached the river, we saw to the right of 
the road a new clearing on a hill, where several men 
were at work, and they running down the hill like wild 
Indians, or rather, like the office-holders in pursuit of the 
deposites. There appeared to be no time to be lost, so 
chey ran, and we cut ahead for the crossing. The music 
continued in all this time stronger and stronger, and the 
very notes appeared to speak distinctly, “ Over the wa¬ 
ter to Charley.” 

When we reached the crossing, we were struck all of 
a heap, at beholding a man seated in a sulky in the mid¬ 
dle of the river, and playing for life on a fiddle. The 
horse was up to his middle in the water, and it seemed 
as if the flimsy vehicle was ready to be swept away by 
the current. Still the fiddler fiddled on composedly, as 
if his life had been insured, and he was nothing more 
than a passenger. We thought he was mad, and shouted 
to him. He heard us, and stopped his music. “ You 
have missed the crossing,” Shouted one of the men from 
the clearing. “ I know I have,” returned the fiddler. 
‘‘If you go ten feet farther you will be drowned.” “I 
know I shall,” returned the fiddler. “ Turn back,” said 
the man. “ I can’t,” said the other. “ Then how the 
devil will you get out ?'* “ I’m sure I don’t know: come 

you and help me.” 

The men from the clearing, who understood the river, 
took our horses and rode up to the sulky, and after somo 
difficulty succeeded in bringing the traveler safe to shore. 


282 


USE OF FIDDLING. 


when we recognised the worthy parson who had fiddled 
for us at the puppet show at Little Rock. They told 
him that he had had a narrow escape, and he replied that 
he had found that out an hour ago. He said he had been 
fiddling to the fishes for a full hour, and had exhausted 
all the tunes that he could play without notes. We then 
asked him what could have induced him to think of fid¬ 
dling at a time of such peril; and he replied, that he had 
remarked in his progress through life, that there was no¬ 
thing in univarsal natur so well calculated to draw peo¬ 
ple together as the sound of a fiddle; and he knew that 
he might bawl until he was hoarse for assistance, and no 
one would stir a peg; but they would no sooner hear the 
scraping of his catgut, than they would quit all other 
business, and come to the spot in flocks. We laughed 
heartily at the knowledge the parson showed of human 
natur. And he was right. 

Having fixed up the old gentleman’s sulky right and 
tight, and after rubbing down his poor jaded animal, the 
company insisted on having a dance before we separa¬ 
ted. We all had our flasks of whiskey; we took a drink 
all round, and though the parson said he had about 
enough fiddling for one day, he struck up with great 
good humor; at it w T e -went and danced straight fours 
for an hour and better. We all enjoyed ourselves very 
much, but came to the conclusion that dancing wasn’t 
altogether the thing without a few petticoats to give it 
variety. 

The dance being over, our new friends pointed out the 
right fording, and assisted the parson across the river. 
We took another drink all around, and after shaking 


ARKANSAS. 


283 


each other cordially by the hand, we separated, wishing 
each other all the good fortune that the rugged lot that 
has been assigned us will afford. My friends retraced 
the road to Little Rock, and I pursued my journey; and 
as I thought of their disinterested kindness to an entire 
stranger, I felt that the world is not quite as heartless 
and selfish as some grumblers would have us think. 

The Arkansas is a pretty fine territory, being about 
five hundred and fifty miles in length from east to west, 
with a mean width of near two hundred, extending over 
an area of about one hundred thousand square miles 
The face of the country from its great extent is very 
much diversified. It is pretty well watered, being inter¬ 
sected by the Arkansas river, and branches of the Red, 
Washita, and White rivers. The Maserne mountains, 
which rise in Missouri, traverse Arkansas, and extend 
into Texas. That part of the Territory to the south¬ 
east of the Masernes is for the most part low, and in 
many places liable to be overflowed annually. To the 
north-west of the mountains, the country presents gen¬ 
erally an open expanse of prairie without wood, except 
near the borders of the streams. The seasons of the 
year partake of those extremes of heat and cold, which 
might be expected in so great an extent, and in a coun¬ 
try which affords so much difference of level. The sum 
mers are as remarkable as the winters for extreme of 
temperature. The soil exhibits every variety, from the 
most productive to the most sterile. The forest trees 
are numerous and large; such as oak, hickory, sycamore, 
cotton-wood, locust, and pine. The cultivated fruit trees 
are the apple, pear, peach, plum, nectarine, cherry, and 


284 


ELOQUENCE OP THE PAItSON. 


quinc:* and the various kinds of grains, such as wheat 
rye, c?.t 3 , barley, and Indian corn, succeed amazing well. 
Cotton, Indian corn, flour, peltry, salted provisions, and 
lumber, are the staples of this territory. Arkansas waa 
among the most ancient settlements of the French in 
Louisiana. That nation had a hunting and trading post 
on the Arkansas river, as early as the beginning of the 
eighteenth century. Arkansas, I rather reckon, will be 
admitted as a state into the Union during the next ses 
sion of Congress ; and if the citizens of Little Rock arc 
a fair sample of her children, she cannot fail to go ahead. 

I kept in company with the parson until we arrived at 
Greenville, and I do say, he was just about as pleasant 
an old gentleman to travel with, as any man who wasn’t 
too darned particular, could ask for. We talked about 
politics, religion, and nature, farming, and bear hunting, 
and the many blessings that an all bountiful Providence 
has bestowed upon our happy country. He continued 
to talk upon this subject, traveling over the whole 
ground as it were, until his imagination glowed, and his 
soul became full to overflowing; and he checked his 
horse, and I stopped mine also, and a stream of eloquence 
burst forth from his aged lips, such as I have seldom lis¬ 
tened to: it came from the overflowing fountain of a pure 
and grateful heart. We were alone in the wilderness, 
but as he proceeded, it seemed to me as if the tall trees 
bent their tops to listen;—that the mountain stream 
laughed out joyfully as it bounded on like some living 
thing; that the fading flowers of autumn smiled, and 
sent forth fresher fragrance, as if conscious that they 
would revive in spring, and even the sterile rocks seemed 


THE PARTING. 


285 


to be endued with some mysterious influence. We were 
alone in the wilderness, but all things told me that God 
was tnere. The thought renewed my strength and cour¬ 
age. I had left my country, felt somewhat like an out¬ 
cast, believed that I had been neglected and lost sight 
of: but I was now conscious that there was still one 
watchful Eye over me; no matter whether I dwelt in the 
populous cities, or threaded the pathless forest alone; no 
matter whether I stood in the high places among men, 
or made my solitary lair in the untrodden wild, that Eye 
was still upon me. My very soul leaped joyfully at the 
thought; I never felt so grateful in all my life; I never 
loved my God so sincerely in all my life. I felt that I 
still had a friend. 

When the old man finished, I found that my eyes were 
wet with tears. I approached and pressed his hand, and 
thanked him, and says I, “ Now let us take a drink.” I 
set him the example, and he followed it, and in a style 
too that satisfied me, that if he had ever belonged to the 
Temperance society, he had either renounced mem¬ 
bership, or obtained a dispensation. Having liquored, 
we proceeded on our journey, keeping a sharp look-out 
for mill-seats and plantations as we rode along. 

I left the worthy old man at Greenville, and sorry 
enough I was to part with him,'for he talked a great 
deal, and he seemed to know a little about everything. 
He knew all about the history of the country; was well 
acquainted with all the leading men; knew where all the 
good lands lay in most of the western states, as well as 
the cutest clerk in the Land Office; and had traced most 
of the rivers to their sources. He was very cheerful and 


286 


CURIOSITY. 


happy, though to all appearances very poor I thought 
that he would make a first-rate agent for taking up lands, 
and mentioned it to him; he smiled, and pointing above, 
said, “ My wealth lies not in this world.” 

I mounted my horse and pushed forward on my road 
to Fulton. When I reached Washington, a village a 
few miles from the Red river, I rode up to the Black 
Bear tavern, when the following conversation took place 
between me and the landlord, which is a pretty fair sam¬ 
ple of the curiosity of some folks :— 

“ Good morning, mister—I don’t exactly recollect your 
name now,” said the landlord as I alighted. 

“ It’s of no consequence,” said I. 

“I’m pretty sure I’ve seen you somewhere.” 

“Very likely you may, I’ve been there frequently.” 

“I was sure ’twas so; but strange I should forget 
your name,” says he. 

“It is indeed somewhat strange that you should forget 
what you never knew,” says I. 

“ It is unaccountable strange. It’s what I’m not often 
in the habit of, I assure you. I have, for the most part, 
a remarkably detentive memory. In the power of peo¬ 
ple that pass along this way, I’ve scarce ever made, as 
the doctors say, a s'lapsus slinkum of this kind afore.” 

“Eh heh !” I shouted, while the critter continued. 

“ Traveling to the western country, I presume, mis¬ 
ter ?” 

“Presume anything you please, sir,” said I; “but 
don’t trouble me with your presumptions.” 

“0 Lord, no, sir—I won’t do that, I’ve no ideer of 


QUESTIONING. 287 

fcliat—not the least ideer in the world,” says he; '*1 sup¬ 
pose you’ve been to the westward afore now ?” 

“Well, suppose I have?” 

“ Why, on that supposition, I was going to say you 
must be pretty well—that is to say, yon mus* know some¬ 
thing about the place.” 

“Eh heh!” I ejaculated, looking sort of mazed full 
in his face. The tarnal critter still went ahead. 

“ 1 take it you’re a married man, mister ? ’ 

“ Take it as you will, that is no affaii of mine,” 
says I. 

“Well, after all, a married life is the most happiest 
way of living ; don’t you think so, mister ?” 

“Very possible,” says I. 

“ I conclude you have a family of children, sir ?” 

“ I don’t know what reason you have to conclude so.” 

“ Oh, no reason in the world, mister, not the least,” 
says he; “ but I thought I might just take the liberty 
to make the presumption, you know; that’s all, sir. I 
take it, mister, you’re a man about my age ?” 

“Eh heh!” 

“ How old do you call yourself, if I may be so bold?” 

“ You’re bold enough, the devil knows,” says I; and 
as I spoke rather sharp, the varment seemed rather 
staggered, but he soon recovered himself, and came up 
to the chalk again. 

“ No offence I hope—I—I—I—wouldn’t be thought 
uncivil, by any means; I always calculate to treat every¬ 
body with civility.” 

“ You have a very strange way of showing it.” 

* True, as you say, I ginerally take my own way in 


288 


CURIOSITY BAFFLED. 


these ere matters. Do you practice lair, mister, or 
farming, or mechanicals?” 

‘‘Perhaps so,” says I. 

“Ah, I judge so ; I was pretty certain it must be the 
case. Well, it’s as good business as any there is fol¬ 
lowed now-a-days.” 

“Eh heh!” I shouted, and my lower jaw fell in 
amazement at his perseverance. 

“ I take it you’ve money at interest, mister ?” con¬ 
tinued the varment, without allowing himself time to 
take breath. 

“ Would it be of any particular interest to you to find 
out ?” sajrs I. 

“ Oh, not at all, not the least in the world, sir; I’m 
not at all inquisitive about other people’s matters; I 
minds my own business—that’s my way.” 

“ And a very odd way you have of doing it, too.” 

“ I’ve been thinking what persuasion you’re of—whe¬ 
ther you’re a Unitarian or Baptist, or whether you 
belong to the Methodisses.” 

“Well, w'hat’s the conclusion?” 

“ Why, I have concluded that I’m pretty near right 
in my conjectures. Well, after all, I’m inclined to think 
they’re the nearest right of any persuasion—though some 
folks think differently.” 

“ Eh heh !” I shouted again. 

“As to pollyticks, I take it, you—that is to say, I 
suppose you-” 

“ Very likely.” 

“Ah ! I could have sworn it was so from the moment 
[ saw you. I have a knack at finding out a man’s sen- 



JCB SNELLING. 


289 


fcimeiits. I dare say, mister, you’re a justice in your 
own country ?” 

“And if I may return the compliment, I should say 
you’re a just ass everywhere.” By this time I began 
to get weary of his impertinence, and led my horse to 
the trough to water, hut the darned critter followed me 

up. 

“ Why, yes,” said he, “ I’m in the commission of the 
peace, to be sure—and an officer in the militia—though, 
between you and I, I wouldn’t wish to boast of it.” 

My horse having finished drinking, I put one foot in 
the stirrup, and was preparing to mount. “Any more 
inquiries to make?” said I. 

“ Why, no, nothing to speak on,” said he. “ When 
do you return, mister?” 

“About the time I come back,” said I; and leaping 
into the saddle, galloped off. The pestiferous varment 
bawled after me, at the top of his voice,— 

“ Well, I shall look for ye, then. I hope you won’t 
fail to call.” 

Now, who in all natur do you reckon the critter was, 
who afforded so fine a sample of the impertinent curi¬ 
osity that some people have to pry into other people’s 
affairs ? 

I knew him well enough at first sight, though he 
Beomed to have forgotten me. It was no other than Job 
Snelling, the manufacturer of cayenne pepper out of 
mahogany sawdust, and upon whom I played the trick 
with the coon skin. I pursued my journey to Fulton, 
and laughed heartily to think what a swither I had left 
poor Job in, at not gratifying his curiosity; for I knew 
19 



290 


ARRIVES AT FULTON. 


he was one of those fellows who would peep down your 
throat just to ascertain what you had eaten for dinner. 

When I arrived at Fulton, I inquired for a gentleman 
to whom my friends at Little Rock had given me a letter 
of introduction. I was received in the most hospitable 
manner; and as the steamboat did not start for Natchi¬ 
toches until the next day, I spent the afternoon in seeing 
all that was to he seen. I left the horse with the gen¬ 
tleman, who promised to have him safely returned to 
the owner; and I took the steamboat, and started on 
my way down the Red river, right well pleased with my 
reception at Fulton. 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 


Departure from Fulton—Game of thimblerig on the steamboat— 
Sleight of hand—The Colonel makes Thimblerig treat tne com¬ 
pany—The Colonel’s toast—His speech—Jlis opinion of Van 
Buren—Great applause. 

There was a considerable number of passengers on 
board the boat, and our assortment was somewhat like 
the Yankee merchant’s cargo of notions, pretty parti¬ 
cularly miscellaneous, I tell you. I moved through the 
crowd from stem to stern, to see if 1 could discover any 
face that was not altogether strange to me; hut after a 
general survey, I concluded that I had never seen one 
of them before. There were merchants, and emigrants, 
and gamblers, but none who seemed to have embarked 
in the particular business that for the time being occu¬ 
pied my mind—I could find none who were going to 
Texas. All seemed to have their hands full enough of 
their own affairs, without meddling with the cause of 
freedom. The greater share of glory will be mine, 
thought I, so go ahead, Crockett. 

I saw a small cluster of passengers at one end of the 
boat, ana hearing an occasional burst of laughter, thinks 
I, there’s some sport started in that quarter, and having 
nothing better to do, I’ll go in for my share of it. Ac¬ 
cordingly I drew nigh to the cluster, and seated on the 

( 291 ) 


292 


THIMBLERIG. 


chest was a tall, lank, sea-sarpent looking blackleg, who 
had crawled over from Natchez under the hill, and was 
amusing the passengers with his skill at thimblerig; at 
the same time he was picking up their shillings just 
about as expeditiously as a hungry gobbler would a pint 
of corn, He was doing what might be called an average 
business in a small way, and lost no time in gathering 
up the fragments. 

I watched the whole process for some time, and found 
that he had adopted the example set by the old tempter 
himself, to get the weathergage of us poor weak mortals. 
He made it a point to let his victims win always tho 
first stake, that they might be tempted to go ahead ; and 
then, when they least suspected it, he would come down 
upon them like a hurricane in a cornfield, sweeping all 
before it. 

I stood looking on, seeing him pick up the chicken 
feed from the green horns, and thought if men are such 
darned fools as to be cheated out of their hard earnings 
by a fellow who has just brains enough to pass a pea 
from one thimble to another, with such sleight of hand, 
that you could not tell under which he had deposited it, 
it is not astonishing that the magician of Kinderhook 
should play thimblerig upon the big figure, and attempt 
to cheat the whole nation. I thought that “ the Govern¬ 
ment” was playing the same game with the deposites, 
and with such address, too, that before long it will be a 
hard matter to find them under any of the thimblea 
where it is supposed they have been originally placed. 

The thimble conjurer saw me looking on, and eyeing 
me as if he thought I would be a good subject, said care- 


SLEIGHT OP HAND. 


293 


leosly, u Come, stranger, won’t you take a chance?” the 
whole time passing the pea from one thimble to the other, 
by way of throwing out a bait for the gudgeons to bite 
at. “I never gamble, stranger,” says I, 44 principled 
against it; think it a slippery way of getting through 
the world at best.” “ Them are my sentiments to a 
notch,” says he; “but this is not gambling by no mean3. 
A little innocent pastime, nothing more. Better take a 
hack by way of trying your luck at guessing.” All this 
time he continued working with his thimbles ; first put¬ 
ting the pea under one, which was plain to be seen, 1 and 
then uncovering it, would show that the pea was there ; 
he would then put it under the second thimble, and do 
the same, and then under the third; all of which he did 
to show how easy it would be to guess where the pea was 
deposited, if one would only keep a sharp look-out. 

“ Come, stranger,” says he to me again, “you had 
better take a chance. Stake a trifle, I don’t care how 
Bmall, just for the fun of the thing.” 

“ I am principled against betting money,” says I, 
“ but I don’t mind going in for drinks for the present 
company, for I’m as dry as one of little Isaac Hill’s re¬ 
gular set of speeches.” 

“I admire your principles,” says he, “and to show 
that I play with these here thimbles just for the sake 
of pastime, I will take that bet, though I am a whole hog 
temperance man. Just say when, stranger.” 

Ho continued all the time slipping the pea from one 
thimble to another; my eye was as keen as a lizard’s, 
and when he stopped, I cried out, “ Now; the pea is un 
der the mi idle thimble.” He was going to raise it to 


29*1 


DRINKS ALL ROUND. 


eh- >w that it wasn’t there, when I interfered, and said, 
“ Stop, if you please,” and raised it myself, and sure 
enough the pea was there; hut it mought have been 
otherwise if he had had the uncovering of it. 

44 Sure enough you’ve won the bet,” says he. 44 Y ou’vo 
a sharp eye, but I don’t care if I give you another 
chance. Let us go fifty cents this bout; I’m sure you’ll 
win.” 

44 Then you’re a darned fool to bet, stranger,” says I; 
44 and since that is the case, it would be little better than 
picking your pocket to bet with you; so I’ll let it alone.” 

44 I don’t mind running the risk,” said he. 

44 But I do,” says I; 44 and since I always let well 
enough alone, and I have had just about glory enough 
for one day, let us all go to the bar and liquor.” 

This called forth a loud laugh at the thimble conjurer’s 
expense; and he tried hard to induce me to take just 
one chance more, but he mought just as well have sung 
psalms to a dead horse, for my mind was made up; and 
[ told him, that I looked upon gambling as about the 
dirtiest way that a man could adopt to get through this 
dirty world; and that I would never bet any thing beyond 
a quart of whisky upon a rifle shot, which I considered 
a legal bet, and gentlemanly and rational amusement. 
44 But all this cackling,” says I, 44 makes me very 
thirsty, so let us adjourn to the bar and liquor.” 

He gathered up his thimbles, and the whole company 
followed us to the bar, laughing heartily at the conjurer; 
for, as he had 'won some of their money, they were sort 
of delighted to see him beaten with his own cudgel. He 
tried to laugh too, but his laugh wasn’t at all pleasant 


TIIE TREAT. 


295 


and rather forced. The barkeeper placed a big-bellied 
bottle before us; and after mixing our liquor, I was 
called on for a toast, by one of the company, a chap just 
about as rough hewn as if he had been cut out of a gum 
log with a broad-axe, and sent into the market without 
even being smoothed off with a jack plane; one of them 
chaps who, in their journey through life, are always 
ready for a fight or a frolic, and don’t care the toss of a 
copper which. 

“ Well, gentlemen,” says I, “being called upon for a 
toast, and being in a slave-holding state, in order to 
avoid giving offence and running the risk of being 
lynched, it may be necessary to premise that I am 
neither an abolitionist nor a colonizationist, but simply Col¬ 
onel Crockett of Tennessee, now bound for Texas.” When 
they heard my name, they gave three cheers for Colonel 
Crockett; and silence being restored, I continued, “ Now, 
gentlemen, I will offer you a toast, hoping, after what I 
have stated, that it will give offence to no one present; 
but should I be mistaken, I must imitate the ‘ old Ro¬ 
man,’ and take the responsibility. I offer, gentlemen, 
The abolition of slavery: let the work first begin in the 
two houses of Congress. There are no slaves in the 
country more servile than the party slaves in Congress. 
The wink or the nod of their masters is all-sufficient for 
the accomplishment of the most dirty work.” 

They drank the toast in a style that satisfied me that 
tha little Magician might as well go to a pigsty for wool, 
as to beat round in that part for voters : they were all 
either for Judge White or Old Tippecanoe. The thim¬ 
ble conjurer having asked the barkeeper how much there 


£96 


TH*5 TOAST. 


was to pay, was told that there were sixteen smellers, 
which amounted co one dollar. He was about to lay 
down the blunt, but not in Benton’s metallic currency, 
which I find has already become as shy as honesty with 
an office-holder, but he planked down one of Biddle’s 
notes, when I interfered, and told him that the barkeeper 
had made a mistake. 

“ How so ?” demanded the barkeeper. 

“ How much do you charge,” said I, “when you re¬ 
tail your liquor ?” 

“ A fip a glass.” 

“Well, then,” says I, “as Thimblerig here, who be¬ 
longs to the temperance society, took it in wholesale, I 
reckon you can afford to let him have it at half price ?” 

Now, as they had all noticed that the conjurer went 
what is called the heavy wet, they laughed outright, and 
we heard no more about temperance from that quarter. 
When we returned to the deck, the blackleg set to work 
with his thimbles again, and bantered me to bet; but I 
told him that it was against my principle, and as I had 
already reaped glory enough for one day, I would just 
let well enough alone for the present. If the “ old Ro¬ 
man ” had done the same in relation to the deposites and 
“ the monster,” we should have escaped more difficulties 
than all the cunning of the Little Flying Dutchman, and 
Dick Johnson to boot, will be able to repair. I shouldn’t 
be astonished if the new Vice President’s head should 
get wool gathering before they have half unraveled the 
knotted and twisted thread of perplexities that the old 
General has spun,—in which case his charming sp 'use 
will no doubt be delighted, for then they will be all ii the 


THE SPEECH. 


29T 


family way. What a handsome display they will make 
in the White House ! No doubt the first act of Congress 
will be to repeal the duties on Cologne and Lavender 
waters, for they will be in great demand about the Palace, 
particularly in the dog days. 

One of the passengers hearing that I was on board of 
the boat, came up to me and began to talk about the af¬ 
fairs of the nation, and said a good deal in favor of “ the 
Magician,” and wished to hear what I had to say against 
him. He talked loud, which is the way with all politi¬ 
cians educated in the Jackson school; and by his slang- 
whanging drew a considerable crowd around us. Now, 
this was the very thing I wanted, as I knew I should not 
yuon have another opportunity of making a political 
speech; he no sooner asked to hear what I had to say 
against his candidate, than I let him have it, strong and 
hot as he could take, I tell you. 

“ What have I to say against Martin Yan Buren ? 
He is an artful, cunning, intriguing, selfish, speculating 
lawyer, who, by holding lucrative offices for more than 
half his life, has contrived to amass a princely fortune, 
and is now seeking the Presidency, principally for sordid 
gain, and to gratify the most selfish ambition. His fame 
is unknown to the history of our country, except as a 
most adroit political manager and successful office hun¬ 
ter. He never took up arms in defence of his coun¬ 
try, in her days of darkness and peril. He never con¬ 
tributed a dollar of his surplus wealth to assist her in her 
hours of greatest want and weakness. Office and money 
have been the gods of his idolatry; and at their shrines 
has the ardent worship of his heart been devoted, from 


298 


VAN BUREN. 


the earliest days of his manhood to the present moment, 
lie can lay no claim tD pre-eminent services as a states¬ 
man ; nor has he ever given any evidences of superior 
talent, except as a political electioneerer and intriguer. 
As a politician, lie is ‘all things to all men.’ He is for 
internal improvement, and against it; for the tariff, and 
against it; for the bank monopoly, and against it; for 
the abolition of slavery, and against it; and for any¬ 
thing else, and against anything else, just as he can best 
promote his popularity, and subserve his own private in¬ 
terest. He is so totally destitute of moral courage, that 
he never dares to give an opinion upon any important 
question until he first finds out whether it will be popu¬ 
lar, or not. He is celebrated as the ‘Little Non-Com¬ 
mittal Magician,’ because he enlists on no side of any 
question, until he discovers which is the strongest party ; 
and then always moves in so cautious, sly, and secret a 
manner, that he can change sides at any time, as easily 
as a juggler or a magician can play off liis arts of leger- 
de-main. 

“ Who is Martin Van Buren ? He is the candidate 
of the office-holders, and office expectants, who nomina¬ 
ted him for the Presidency at a convention assembled in 
the city of Baltimore, in May last. The first account we 
have of his political life is wdiile he was a member of the 
Senate of New York, at the time when Mr. Clinton was 
nominated as the federal candidate for the presidency, in 
opposition to Mr. Madison. The support he then gave 
Mr. Clinton afforded abundant evidence of that spirit of 
opposition to the institutions of his country, which waa 
prominently developed in the conduct o f those with whom 


VAN BUREN’S VOTES. 


299 


he was united. Shortly after the success of Mr. Madi¬ 
son, and during the prosecution of the war, Rufus King, 
of New York, (for whom Mr. Van Buren voted,) was 
elected to the Senate of the United States, avowedly op¬ 
posed to the administration. Upon his entrance into 
that body, instead of devoting his energies to maintain 
the war, he commenced a tirade of abuse against the ad¬ 
ministration for having attempted relief to the oppressed 
seamen of our gallant navy, who had been compelled by 
British violence to arm themselves against their country, 
their firesides, and their friends. Thus Martin Van Bu¬ 
ren countenanced by his vote in the Senate of New 
York, an opposition to that war, which, a second time, 
convinced Great Britain that Americans could not be 
awed into bondage and subjection. 

“ Subsequent to this time, Mr. Van Buren became 
himself a member of the United States Senate, and, 
while there, opposed every proposition to improve tho 
west, or to add to her numerical strength. 

“ He voted against the continuance of the national 
road through Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, and against appro¬ 
priations for its preservation. 

“ He voted against the graduation of the price of tho 
public lands. 

“ He voted against ceding the refuse lands to the 
States in which they lie. 

“ He voted against making donations of the lands to 
actual settlers. 

“ He again voted against ceding the refuse lands, 
not worth twenty-five cents per acre, to the new 


800 


GEEAT APPLAUSE. 


States for purposes of education and internal improve¬ 
ment. 

“ He voted against the bill providing ‘ settlement and 
pre-emption rights’ to those who had assisted in opening 
and improving the western country, and thus deprived 
many an honest poor man of a home. 

“ He voted against donations of land to Ohio, to 
prosecute the Miami Canal; and, although a member 
of the Senate, he was not present when the vote was 
taken upon the engrossment of the bill giving land to 
Indiana for her Wabash and Erie Canal, and was known 
to have opposed it in all its stages. 

“ He voted in favor of erecting toll gates on the na¬ 
tional road; thus demanding a tribute from the west 
for the right to pass upon her own highways, con¬ 
structed out of her own money—a thing never heard of 
before. 

“After his term of service had expired in the Senate, 
he was elected Governor of New York, by a plurality 
of votes. He was afterwards sent to England as min¬ 
ister plenipotentiary, and upon his return was elected 
Vice President of the United States, which office he 
now holds, and from which the office-holders are seeking 
to transfer him to the Presidency.’* 

My speech was received with great applause, and the 
politician, finding that I was better acquainted with his 
candidate than he was himself, for I wrote his life, shut 
his fly trap, and turned on his heel without saying a 
word. He found that he had barked up the wrong 
tree. I afterward learnt that he was a mail contractor 


THE POLITICIAN. 


301 


m those parts, and that he also had large dealings in 
the land office, and therefore thought it necessary to 
chime in with his penny whistle, in the universal chorus. 
There’s a large hand of the same description, but I’m 
thinking Uncle Sam will some day find out that he has 
paid too much for the piper.* 

* The Colonel’s stump speech on this occasion is very interesting as 
a reminiscence of the state of party politics more than twenty years 
ago. Then the great bugbear was the bank of the United States on 
the one hand, and Jackson and Yan Buren on the other. Mntua 1 
abuse and recrimination were the order of the day. The politician 
who was most severe and unsparing towards his opponents was most 
popular. They were the men to save the country, which was always 
on the brink of ruin. The Colonel’s speech, which may seem odd to 
us at the present, is really quite a favorable specimen of what waf 
considered political eloquence in his day. 


CHAPTER XXIX. 


Thimblerig relates the events of his life to the Colonel—Thimblerig 
courts a planter’s daughter—Gets a very broad hint to leave—Bo- 
comes a play-actor—Refuses to perform the hind legs of the ele¬ 
phant, because it is not a speaking part—Gets discharged—Becomes 
marker in a gambling house at New Orleans—Quits—Becomes a 
professional blackleg—Goes to Natchez under the hill—His de¬ 
scription of that place—A murder—Punishment of the murderer 
-Punishment of a gambler for cheating—Arrival of the Colonel 
at Natchitoches. 

After my speech, and setting my face against gam¬ 
bling, poor Thimblerig was obliged to break oft* conjuring 
for want of customers, and call it half a day. lie came 
and entered into conversation with me, and I found him 
a good-natured, intelligent fellow, with a keen eye for 
the main chance. He belonged to that numerous class, 
that it is perfectly safe to trust as far as a tailor can 
sling a bull by the tail—but no farther. He told me 
that he had been brought up a gentleman; that is to 
say, he was not instructed in any useful pursuit by 
which he could obtain a livelihood, so that when he 
found he had to depend upon himself for the necessaries 
of life, he began to suspect, that dame nature would 
have conferred a particular favor if she had consigned 
him to the care of any one else. She had made a very 
( 302 ) 


THIMBLERIG COURTING. 


303 


injudicious choice when she selected him to sustain th« 
dignity of a gentleman. 

The first bright idea that occurred to him as a speedy 
means of bettering his fortune, would be to marry an 
heiress. Accordingly, he looked about himself pretty 
sharp, and after glancing from one fair object to ano¬ 
ther, finally, his hawk’s eye rested upon the young and 
pretty daughter of a wealthy planter. Thimblerig run 
his brazen face with his tailor for a new suit, for he 
abounded more in that metallic currency than he did in 
either Benton’s mint drops or in Biddle’s notes; and 
having the gentility of his outward Adam thus endorsed 
by his tailor—an important endorsement, hy-the-way, as 
times go—he managed to obtain an introduction to the 
planter’s daughter. 

Our worthy had the principle of going ahead strongly 
developed. He was possessed of considerable address, 
and had brass enough in his face to make a wash-kettle: 
and having once got access to the planter’s house, it 
was no easy matter to dislodge him. In this he resem¬ 
bled those politicians who commence life as office-holders ; 
they will hang on, tooth and nail, and even when death 
shakes them off, you’ll find a commission of some kind 
crumpled up in their clenched fingers. Little Van 
appears to belong to this class—there’s no beating hia 
snout from the public crib. He’ll feed there while 
there’s a grain of corn left, and even then, from long 
habit, he’ll set to work and gnaw at the manger. 

Thimblerig got the blind side of the planter, and 
everything, to outward appearances, went on swim¬ 
mingly. Our worthy boasted to his cronies that the 


804 


A BROAD HINT. 


business was settled, and that in a few weeks he should 
occupy the elevated station in society that nature had 
designed him to adorn. He swelled like the frog in the 
fable, or, rather, like Johnson’s wife, of Kentucky, 
when the idea occurred to her of figuring away at 
Washington. But there’s many a slip ’twixt the cup 
and the lip, says the proverb, and suddenly Thimblerig 
discontinued his visits at the planter’s house. His 
friends inquired of him the meaning of this abrupt ter¬ 
mination of his devotions. 

44 I have been treated with disrespect,” replied the 
worthy, indignantly. 

44 Disrespect! in what way ?” 

44 My visits, it seem3, are not altogether agreeable.” 

44 But how have you ascertained that ?” 

44 I received a hint to that effect; and I can take a 
hint as soon as another.” 

44 A hint!—and have you allowed a hint to drive you 
from the pursuit? For shame. Go back again.” 

44 No, no, never! a hint is sufficient for a man of my 
gentlemanly feelings. I asked the old man for his 
daughter.” 

44 Well, what followed ? what did he say ?” 

44 Didn’t say a word.” 

44 Silence gives consent all the world over.” 

44 So I thought. I then told him to fix the day.” 

44 Well, what then ?” 

44 Why, then, he kicked me down stairs, and ordered 
bis slaves to pump upon me. That’s hint enough fer 
me, that my visits are not properly appreciated; and 


THE ELEPHANT. 


305 


blast my old shoes if I condescend to renew the acquaint¬ 
ance, or notice them in any way until they send for me.” 

As Thimblerig’s new coat became rather too seedy to 
play the part of a gentleman much longer in real life, 
he determined to sustain that character upon the stage, 
and accordingly joined a company of players. He be¬ 
gan, according to custom, at the top of the ladder, and 
was regularly hissed and pelted through every gradation 
until he found himself at the lowest rowel. “This,” 
said he, “was a dreadful check to proud ambition;” but 
he consoled himself with the idea of peace and quietness 
in his present obscure walk ; and though he had no pros¬ 
pect of being elated by the applause of admiring multi¬ 
tudes, he no longer trod the scene of mimic glory in con¬ 
stant dread of becoming a target for rotten eggs and 
oranges. “And there was much in that,” said Thim- 
bleberig. But this calm could not continue for ever. 

The manager, who, like all managers who pay salaries 
regularly, was as absolute behind the scenes as the “ old 
Homan” is in the White House, had fixed upon getting 
up an eastern spectacle, called the Cataract of the Gan¬ 
ges. He intended to introduce a fine procession, in 
which an elephant was to be the principal feature. Here 
a difficulty occurred. What was to be done for an ele¬ 
phant? Alligators were plenty in those parts, but an 
elephant was not to be had for love or money. But an 
alligator would not answer the purpose, so he determined 
to make a pasteboard elephant as large as life, and twice 
as natural. The next difficulty was to find members of 
the company of suitable dimensions to perform the seve¬ 
ral members of the pasteboard star. The manager cast 
20 


806 


THE MARKER. 


his eye upon the long, gaunt figure of the unfortunate 
Thimblerig, and cast him for the hinder legs, the rump, 
and part of the back of the elephant. The poor player 
expostulated, and the manager replied, that he would 
appear as a star on the occasion, and would no doubt re¬ 
ceive more applause than he had during his whole career. 
“But I shall not be seen,” said the player. “All 
the better,” replied the manager, “ as in that case you 
will have nothing to apprehend from eggs and oranges.” 

Thimblerig, finding that mild expostulation availed 
nothing, swore that he would not study the part, and ac¬ 
cordingly threw it up in dignified disgust. He said that 
it was an outrage upon the feelings of the proud repre¬ 
sentative of Shakespeare’s heroes, to be compelled to 
play pantomine in the hinder parts of the noblest animal 
that ever trod the stage. If it had been the fore quar¬ 
ters of the elephant, it might possibly have been made a 
speaking part; at any rate, he might have snorted 
through the trunk, if nothing more; but from the posi¬ 
tion he w\as to occupy, damned the word could he utter, 
or even roar with propriety. He therefore positively 
refused to act, as he considered it an insult to his repu¬ 
tation to tread the stage in such a character; and ho 
looked upon the whole affair as a profanation of the 
legitimate drama. The result was, our worthy was dis¬ 
charged from the company, and compelled to commenco 
hoeing another row. 

He drifted to New Orleans, and hired himself aa 
marker to a gambling table. Here he remained but a 
few months, for his idea of arithmetic differed widely from 
those of his employer, and accordingly they had some 


THE BLACKLEG. 


807 


difficulty in balancing their cash account; for when his 
employer, in adding up the receipts, made it nought and 
carry two, Thimblerig insisted that it should be nought 
and carry one; and in order to prove that he was cor¬ 
rect, he carried himself off, and left nothing behind him. 

He now commenced professional blackleg on his own 
hook, and took up his quarters in Natchez under the hill. 
Here he remained, doing business in a small way, until 
Judge Lynch commenced his practice in that quarter, 
and made the place too hot for his comfort. He shifted 
his habitation, but not having sufficient capital to go the 
big figure, he practised the game of thimblerig until he 
acquired considerable skill, and then commenced passing 
up and down the river in the steamboats; and managed, 
by close attention to business, to pick up a decent liveli¬ 
hood in the small way, from such as had more pence in 
their pockets than sense in their noddles. 

I found Thimblerig to be a pleasant talkative fellow. 
He communicated the foregoing facts with as much in¬ 
difference as if there had been nothing disgraceful in his 
career; and at times he would chuckle with an air of 
triumph at the adroitness he had displayed in some of 
the knavish tricks he had practised. He looked upon 
this world as one vast stage, crowded with empirics and 
jugglers; and that he who could practise his deceptions 
with the greatest skill was entitled to the greatest ap¬ 
plause. 

I asked him to give me an acceunt of Natchez and his 
adventures there, and I would put it in the book I in¬ 
tended to write, when he gave me the following, which 
betrays that his feelings were somewhat irritated at being 


308 


NATCHEZ UNDER THE HILL. 


obliged to give them leg bail when Judge Lynch made 
his appearance. I give it in his own words: 

“ Natchez is a land of fevers, alligators, niggers, and 
cotton bales: where the sun shines with force sufficient 
to melt the diamond, and the w T ord ice is expunged from 
the dictionary, for its definition cannot be comprehended 
by the natives: where to refuse grog before breakfast 
would degrade you below the brute creation ; and where 
a good dinner is looked upon as an angel’s visit, and 
voted a miracle: where the evergreen and majestic mag¬ 
nolia tree, with its superb flower, unknown to the north¬ 
ern climes, and its fragrance unsurpassed, calls forth the 
admiration of every beholder; and the dark moss hangs in 
festoons from the forest trees, like the drapery of a funeral 
pall: where bears, the size of young jackasses, are fon¬ 
dled in lieu of pet dogs ; and knives, the length of a bar¬ 
ber’s pole, usurp the place of toothpicks: where the filth 
of the town is carried off by buzzards, and the in¬ 
habitants are carried off by fevers : where nigger women 
are knocked down by the auctioneer, and knocked up by 
the purchaser; where the poorest slave has plenty of yel¬ 
low boys, but not of Benton’s mintage; and indeed the 
shades of colour are so varied and mixed, that a nigger 
is frequently seen black and blue at the same timo. 
And such is Natchez. 

“ The town is divided into two parts, as distinct in 
character as they are in appearance. Natchez on tho 
hill, situated upon a high bluff overlooking the Missis¬ 
sippi, is a pretty little town with streets regularly laid 
out, and ornamented with divers handsome public build¬ 
ings. Natchez under the hill,—where, oh ! where shall 


NATCHEZ UNDER 1HE HILL. 


30? 


I find words suitable to describe the peculiarities of that 
unholy spot ? ’Tis, in fact, the jumping off place. Sa¬ 
tan looks on it with glee, and chuckles as he beholds the 
orgies of his votaries. The buildings are for the most 
part brothels, taverns, or gambling houses, and frequently 
the whole three may be found under the same roof. 
Obscene songs are sung at the top of the voice in all 
quarters. I have repeatedly seen the strumpets tear a 
man*3 clothes from his back, and leave his body beauti¬ 
fied with all the colors of the rainbow. 

“ One of the most popular tricks is called the ‘ Spanish 
burial.’ When a greenhorn makes his appearance among 
them, one who is in the plot announces the death of a 
resident, and that all strangers must subscribe to the 
custom of the place upon such an occasion. They forth¬ 
with arrange a procession ; each person, as he passes the 
departed, kneels down and pretends to kiss the treacher¬ 
ous corpse. When the unsophisticated attempts this 
ceremony the dead man clinches him, and the mourners 
beat the fellow so entrapped until he consents to treat 
all hands; but should he be penniless, his life will be en¬ 
dangered by the severity of the castigation. And such 
is Natchez under the hill. 

“ An odd affair occurred while I was last there,” con¬ 
tinued Thimblerig. “A steamboat stopped at the land¬ 
ing, and one of the hands went ashore under the hill to 
purchase provisions, and the adroit citizens of that delec¬ 
table retreat contrived to rob him of all his money. The 
captain of the boat, a determined fellow, went ashore in 
the hope of persuading them to refund, but that cock 
wouldn’t fight. Without farther ceremony, assisted by 


810 


A MURDER- 


his crew and passengers, some three or four hundred in 
number, he made fast an immense cable to the frame 
tenement where the theft had been perpetrated, and 
allowed fifteen minutes for the money to be forthcoming; 
vowed if it was not produced within that time, to put 
steam to his boat, and drag the house into the river. 
The money was instantly produced. 

“I witnessed a sight during my stay there,” continued 
the thimble conjuror, “ that almost froze my blood with 
horror, and will serve as a specimen of the customs of 
the far south. A planter, of the name of Foster, con¬ 
nected with the best families of the state, unprovoked, in 
cold blood, murdered his young and beautiful wife, a few 
months after marriage. He beat her deliberately to 
death in a walk adjoining his dwelling, carried the body 
to the hut of one of his slaves, washed the dirt from her 
person, and assisted by his negroes, buried her upon his 
plantation. Suspicion was awakened, the body disin¬ 
terred, and the villain’s guilt established. He fled, was 
overtaken and secured in prison. His trial was, by some 
device of the law, delayed until the third term of the 
court. At length it came on, and so clear and indispu¬ 
table was the evidence that not a doubt was entertained 
of the result; when, by an oversight on the part of the 
sheriff*, who neglected swearing into office his deputy 
who summoned the jurors, the trial was abruptly discon 
tinued, and all proceedings against Foster were suspended, 
or rather ended. 

“ There exist throughout the extreme south, bodies 
of men who style themselves Lynchers. When an indi¬ 
vidual escapes punishment by some technicality of the 


PUNISHMENT OF THE MURDERER. 311 

law, or perpetrates an offence not recognized in courts of 
justice, they seize him, and inflict such chastisement as 
they conceive adequate to the offence. They usually act 
at night and disguise their persons. This society at 
Natchez embraces all the lawyers, physicians, and prin¬ 
cipal merchants of the place. Foster, whom all good 
men loathed as a monster unfit to live, was called into 
court, and formally dismissed. But the Lynchers were 
at hand. The moment he stept from the court-house he 
was knocked down, his arms bound behind him, his eyes 
bandaged, and in this condition was marched to the rear 
of the town, where a deep ravine afforded a fit place for 
his punishment His clothes were torn from his back, 
his head partially scalped, they next bound him to a tree; 
each Lyncher was supplied with a cow-skin, and they 
took turns at the flogging until the flesh hung in ribands 
from his body. A quantity of heated tar was then 
poured over his head, and made to cover every part of 
his person; they finally showered a sack of feathers on 
him, and in this horrid guise, with no other apparel than 
a miserable pair of breeches, with a drummer at his heels, 
he was paraded through the principal streets at midday. 
No disguise was assumed by the Lynchers; the very 
lawyers employed upon his trial took part in his punish¬ 
ment. 

“ Owing to long confinement his gait had become 
cramped, and his movements were very faltering. By 
the time the procession reached the most public part of 
the town, Foster fell down from exhaustion, and was al¬ 
lowed to lie there for a time, without exciting the sym¬ 
pathies of any one, an object of universal detestation. 


312 


THE GAMBLER. 


The blood oozing from his stripes had become mixed 
with the feathers and tar, and rendered his aspect still 
more horrible and loathsome. Finding him unable to pro¬ 
ceed further, a common dray was brought, and with his 
back tc the horse’s tail, the drummer standing over him 
playing the rogue’s march, lie was reconducted to prison, 
the only place at which he would be received. 

“A guard was placed outside of the jail to give notice 
to the body of Lynchers when Foster might attempt to 
escape, for they had determined on branding him on the 
forehead and cutting his ears off. At two o’clock in the 
morning of the second subsequent day, two horsemen 
with a led horse stopped at the prison, and Foster was 
with difficulty placed astride. 

“ The Lynchers wished to secure him ; he put spurs to 
his beast, and passed them. As he rode - by they fired 
at him; a ball struck his hat, which was thrown to the 
ground, and he escaped; but if ever found within the 
limits of the state, he will be shot down as if a price was set 
on his head. 

“ Sights of this kind,” continued Thimblerig, “ are by 
no means unfrequent. I once saw a gambler, a sort of 
friend of mine by-the-way, detected cheating at faro, at 
a time when the bets were running pretty high. They 
flogged him almost to death, added the tar and feathers, 
and placed him aboard a dug-out, a sort of canoe, at 
twelve at night; and with no other instrument of naviga¬ 
tion than a bottle of whisky and a paddle, set him adrift 
in the Mississippi. He has never been heard of since, 
and the presumption is, that he either died of his wound* 


THIMBLERIG’S ESCAPE FROM VICKSBURG. 813 

or wa3 run down in the night by a steamer. And this 
is what we call Lynching in Natchez.” 

Thimblerig had also been at Vicksburg in his time, 
and entertained as little liking for that place as he did 
for Natchez. He had luckily made his escape a short 
time before the recent clearing-out of the sleight-of-hand 
gentry; and he reckoned some time would elapse before 
he would pay them another visit. He said they must be¬ 
come more civilized first. All the time he was talking 
to me he w'as seated on a chest, and playing mechanically 
with his pea and thimble3, as if he was afraid that he 
would lose the sleight unless he kept his hand in constant 
practice. Nothing of any consequence occurred in our 
passage down the river, and I arrived at Natchitoches 
in perfect health, and in good spirits.* 

* Thimblerig’s account of Natchez under the hill some twenty 
years since is only too true. It was a notoriously bad place. Life and 
property were so unsafe there that few decent persons were willing to 
run the risk of visiting the place. Of late years it seems to have lost 
its former bad eminence. We hear no more of riots, murders, lynch- 
ings, and gambling broils at Natchez under the hill; and the next 
generation will probably doubt the credibility of the stories reluted >f 
this den of infamy. 


CHAPTER XXX. 


AooouLt of Natchitoches—The Colonel advises Thimblerig to reform 
and join the Texan patriots—Thimblerig decides to do so—Curiom 
incident of the Yellow Boy—The singer and the politician—A brisk 
conversation—The singer thrashes the politician—The bee hunter— 
He joins the patriots—The Colonel, Thimblerig, and the Bee Hun* 
ter set out for Nacogdoches on their way to Texas. 

Natchitoches is a post town and seat of justice for 
the parish of Natchitoches, Louisiana, and is situated on 
the right bank of the Red river. The houses are chiefly 
contained in one street, running parallel to the river; 
and the population I should reckon at about eight hun¬ 
dred. The soil in this parish is generally sterile, and 
covered with pine timber, except near the margin of Red 
river, where the greatest part of the inhabitants are set¬ 
tled on the alluvial banks. Some other, though com¬ 
paratively small, tracts of productive soil skirt tho 
streams. An extensive body of low ground, subject to 
annual submersion, extends along the Red river, which, 
it is said, will produce forty bushels of frogs to the acre, 
and alligators enough to fence it. 

I stayed two days at Natchitoches, during which time 
I procured a horse to carry me across Texas to the seat 
of war. Thimblerig remained with me, and I found his 
conversation very amusing; for he is possessed of humor 

and observation, and has s^?n something of tho world. 

( 314 ) 


A FORLORN ROGUE. 


315 


Between whiles he would amuse himself with his thim¬ 
bles, to which he appeared greatly attached, and occa¬ 
sionally he would pick up a few shillings from the tavern 
loungers. He no longer asked me to play with him, for 
he felt somewhat ashamed to do so, and he knew it would 
be no go. 

I took him to task in a friendly manner, and tried tc 
shame him out of his evil practices. I told him that it 
was a burlesque on human nature, that an able-bodied 
man, possessed of his full share of good sense, should 
voluntarily debase himself, and be indebted for subsis¬ 
tence to such pitiful artifice. 

“But what’s to be done, Colonel?” says he. “I’m 
in the slough of despond, up to the very chin. A mirj 
and slippery path to travel.” 

“Then hold your head up,” says I, “before the slough 
reaches your lips.” 

“ But what’s the use ? ” says he : “ it’s utterly impos¬ 
sible for me to wade through ; and even if I could, I 
should be in such a dirty plight, that it would defy all 
the waters in the Mississippi to wash me clean again. 
No,” he added, in a desponding tone, “I should be like 
a live eel in a frying pan, Colonel; sort of out of my ele¬ 
ment, if I attempted to live like an honest man at this 
time o’day.” 

“ That I deny. It is never too late to become honest,” 
said I. “ But even admit what you say to be true—that 
you cannot live like an honest man, you have at least the 
next best thing in your power, and no one can say nay 
to it.” 

“ And what is that ? ” 


316 


thimblerig’s resolution. 


‘ Die like a brave one. And I know not whether, id 
the eyes of the world, a brilliant death is not preferred 
to an obscure life of rectitude. Most men are remem¬ 
bered as they died, and not as they lived. We gaze with 
admiration upon the glories of the setting sun, yet scarcely 
bestow a passing glance upon its noonday splendor.” 

“ You are right; but how is this to be done ? ” 

“ Accompany me to Texas. Cut aloof from your de¬ 
grading habits and associates here, and in fighting for 
their freedom, regain your own. 

He started from the table, and hastily gathering up 
the thimbles with which he had been playing all the time 
I was talking to him, he thrust them into his pocket, and 
after striding two or three times across the room, sud¬ 
denly stopped, his leaden eye kindled, and grasping me 
by the hand violently, he exclaimed with an oath, “ By 

-, I’ll be a man again. Live honestly, or die bravely. 

I go with you to Texas.” 

1 said what I could to confirm him in his resolution, 
and finding that the idea had taken fast hold of his mind, 
1 asked him to liquor, which he did not decline, notwith¬ 
standing the temperance habits that he boasted of; we 
then took a walk on the banks of the river. 

The evening preceding my departure from Natchi¬ 
toches, a gentleman, with a good horse and a light wa¬ 
gon, drove up to the tavern where I lodged. He was 
accompanied by a lady who carried an infant in her arms. 
As they alighted I recognized the gentleman to be the 
politician at whom I had discharged my last political 
speech, on board the boat coming down the Red river. 
We had let him out in our passage down, as he said he 


A YELLOW BABY. 


317 


had some business to transact some distance above Nat¬ 
chitoches. He entered the tavern, and seemed to be 
rather shy of me, so I let him go, as I had no idea of fir 
ing two shots at such small game. 

The gentleman had a private room, and called for sup¬ 
per ; but the lady, who used every precaution to keep 
the child concealed from the view of any one refused to 
eat supper, saying she was unwell. However, the gen¬ 
tleman made a hearty meal, and excused the woman, 
saying, “My wife is subject to a pain in the stomach, 
which had deprived her of her food.” S^on after sup¬ 
per the gentleman desired a bed to be prepared, which 
being done, they immediately retired to rest. 

About an hour before daybreak, next moining, the re¬ 
pose of the whole inn was disturbed by the screams of 
the child. This continued for some time, and at length 
the landlady got up to see what it was ailed the noisy 
bantling. She entered the chamber without a light, and 
discovered the gentleman seated in the bed alone, rock¬ 
ing the infant in his arms, and endeavoring to quiet it by 
saying, “Hush, my dear—mamma will soon return.” 
However the child still squalled on, and the long absence 
of the mother rendered it necessary that something should 
be done to quiet it. 

The landlady proposed taking up the child, to see what 
•was the reason of its incessant cries. She approached 
the bed, and requested the man to give her the infant, 
and tell her whether it was a son or daughter; but this 
question redoubled his consternation, for he was entirely 
ignorant which sex the child belonged to; however,with 


318 


AN EMBARRASSING POSITION. 


some difficulty, he made the discovery, and informed the 
landlady it was a son. 

She immediately called for a light, which was no sooner 
brought than the landlady began to unfold the wrapper 
from the child, and exclaim, “ 0, what a fine big son you 
have got! ” But on a more minute examination they 
found to their great astonishment, and to the mortification 
and vexation of the supposed father, that the child was 
a mulatto. 

The wretched man, having no excuse to offer, imme¬ 
diately divulged the whole matter without reserve. He 
stated that he had fell in with her on the road to Natchito¬ 
ches the day before, and had offered her a seat in his 
vehicle. Soon perceiving that she possessed an uncom¬ 
mon degree of assurance, induced him to propose that 
they should pass as man and wife. No doubt she had 
left her own home in order to rid herself of the stigma 
which she had brought on herself by her lewd conduct; 
and at midnight she had eloped from the bed, leaving the 
infant to the paternal care of her pretended husband. 

Immediate search was made for the mother of the 
child, but in vain. And, as the song says, “ Single mis¬ 
fortunes ne’er come alone,” to his great consternation 
and grief, she had taken his horse, and left the poor pol¬ 
itician destitute of everything except a fine yellow boy , 
but of a widely different description from those which 
Benton put in circulation. 

By this time all the lodgers in the tavern had got up and 
dressed themselves, from curiosity to know the occasion 
of the disturbance. I descended to the street in front 
of the inn. The stars were faintly glimmering in the 


THE SINGER. 


319 


heavens, and the first beams of the morning sun were 
struggling through the dim clouds that skirted the east¬ 
ern horizon. I thought myself alone in the street, when 
the hush of morning was suddenly broken by a clear, 
joyful, and musical voice, which sang, as near as I could 
catch it, the following scrap of a song :— 

*' Oh, what is the time of the merry round year, 

That is fittest and sweetest for love? 

Ere sucks the bee, ere buds the tree ; 

And primroses by two, by three, 

Faintly shine in the path of the lonely deer, 

Like the few ntars of twilight above.” 

I turned towards the spot whence the sounds pro¬ 
ceeded, and discovered a tall figure leaning against the 
sign post. His eyes were fixed on the streaks of light 
in the east; his mind was absorbed, and he was clearly 
unconscious of any one being near him. He continued 
his song in so full and clear a tone that the street ro 
echoed— 

“ When the blackbird and thrush, at early dawn, 

Prelude from leafy spray— 

Amid dewy scents and blandishments, 

Like a choir attuning their instruments, 

Ere the curtain of nature aside be drawn 
For the concert the live long day.” 

I now drew nigh enough to see him distinctly, n© 
was a young man, not more than twenty-two. IIi3 fig¬ 
ure was light and graceful, and at the same time it indi¬ 
cated strength and activity. He was dressed in a hunt¬ 
ing shirt, which was made with uncommon neatness, and 


320 


THE POLITICIAN IN A RAGE. 


ornamented tastily with fringe. He held a highly fin¬ 
ished rifle in his right hand, and a hunting pouch 
covered with Indian ornaments, was slung across his 
shoulders. His clean shirt collar was open, secured only 
by a black riband around his neck. His boots were 
polished without a soil upon them ; and on his head was 
a neat fur cap, tossed on in a manner which said, “ I 

don’t care a d-n,” just as plainly as any cap could 

speak it. I thought it must be some popinjay of a lark, 
until I took a look at his countenance. It was hand¬ 
some, bright, and manly. There was no mistake in that 
face. From the eyes down to his breast he was sun¬ 
burnt as dark as mahogany, while the upper part of his 
high forehead was as white and polished as marble. Thick 
clusters of black hair curled from under his cap. I 
passed on unperceived, and he continued his song:— 

“In the green spring-tide, all tender and bright, 

When the sun sheds a kindlier gleam 

O’er the velvet bank, that sweet flowers prank, 

That have fresh dews and sunbeams drank— 

Softest and most chaste, as enchanted light 
Iu the visions of maiden’s dream.” 

The poor politician, whose misfortunes had roused up 
the inmates of the tavern at such an unusual hour, now 
returned from the stable, where he had been in search 
of his horse and iiis woman ; but they were both among 
the missing, lie held a whip in his hand, and about a 
dozen men followed him, some from curiosity to see the 
result of the adventure, and others from better feelings. 
As he drew nigh to the front of the tavern, chafing with 
mortification at both his shame and his loss, his rage in- 



A BRISK CONVERSATION. 


821 


ereasing to a flame as his windy exclamations became 
louder and louder, he chanced to espy the fantastic per¬ 
sonage I have just described, still leaning against the 
sign post, carelessly humming his song, but in a lower 
tone, as he perceived he was not alone. 

The irritated politician no sooner saw the stranger 
against the sign post, whose self-satisfied air was in stri¬ 
king contrast with the excited feelings of the other, than 
he paused for a moment, appeared to recognize him ; then 
coming up in a blustering manner, and assuming a 
threatening attitude, he exclaimed fiercely, 

“You’re an infernal scoundrel, do you hear? an in¬ 
fernal scoundrel, sir !” 

“ I do ; but it’s news to me,” replied the other quietly. 

“ News, you scoundrel! do you call it news ?” 

“ Entirely so.” 

“ You needn’t think to carry it off* so quietly. I say, 
you’re an infernal scoundrel, and I’ll prove it.” 

“ I beg you will not; I shouldn’t like to be proved a 
scoundrel,” replied the other, smiling with the most pro¬ 
voking indifference. 

“ No, I dare say you wouldn’t. But answer me di¬ 
rectly—did you, or did you not say, in presence of cer¬ 
tain ladies of my acquaintance, that I was a mere—” 

“ Calf ?—0, no, sir; the truth is not to be spoken at 
*11 times.” 

“ The truth ! Do you presume to call me a calf, 
sir V* 

“ 0, no, sir; I call you-nothing,” replied tho 

stranger, just as cool and as pleasant as a morning ia 
spring. 

21 


822 


A BLUSTERER. 


u It’s well you do; for if you had presumed to call 

„. >> 

mo- 

“ A man, I should have been grossly mistaken.” 

“ Do you mean to say I am not a man, sir ?” 

“ That depends upon circumstances.” 

“ What circumstances ?” demanded the other fiercely. 

u If I should be called as an evidence in a court of 
justice, I should be bound to speak the truth.” 

“ And you would say I was not a man, hey ? Do you 
see this cow-skin ?” 

“ Yes ; and I have seen it with surprise ever since you 
came up,” replied the stranger, calmly, at the same time 
handing me his rifle to take care of. 

“ With surprise !” exclaimed the politician, who saw 
that his antagonist had voluntarily disarmed himself. 
“ Why, did you suppose that I was such a coward that I 
dare not use the article when I thought it was de¬ 
manded ?” 

“ Shall I tell you what I thought ?” 

“ Do, if you dare.” 

“ I thought to myself what use has a calf for a cow- 
skin ?” He turned to me, and said, “ I had forgot, Col¬ 
onel, shall I trouble you to take care of this also V’ 
Saying which he drew a long hunting knife from his belt, 
and placed it in my hand. He then resumed his care¬ 
less attitude against the sign post. 

u You distinctly call me a calf, then ?” 

u If you insist upon it, you may.” 

“ You hear, gentlemen,” said he, speaking to the by¬ 
standers. “ Do you hear the insult? What shall I do 
with the scoundrel ?” 


A BLUSTERER. 82 $ 

“ Dress him, dress him!” exclaimed twenty voices, 
with shouts and laughter. 

“ That I’ll do at once !” Then, turning to the stran¬ 
ger, he cried out fiercely, “ Come one step this way, you 
rascal, and I’ll flog you within an inch of your life.” 

“ I’ve no occasion.” 

“ You’re a coward.” 

“ Not on your word.” 

“ I’ll prove it by flogging you out of your skin.”, 

“ I doubt it.” 

“I am a liar, then, am I ?” 

“ Just as you please.” 

“ Do you hear that, gentlemen ?” 

“ Ay, we hear,” was the unanimous response. “You 
can’t avoid dressing him now.” 

“ 0 heavens ! grant me patience ! I shall fly out of 
my skin.” 

“ It will be so much the better for your pocket; calf¬ 
skins are in good demand.” 

“ I shall burst.” 

“ Not here in the street, I beg of you. It would be 
disgusting.” 

“ Gentlemen, can I any longer avoid floggmg him ?” 

“Not if you are able,” was the reply. “Go at 

him.” 

Thus provoked, thus stirred up, and enraged, the 
fierce politician went like lightning at his provoking an¬ 
tagonist. But before he could strike a blow he found 
himself disarmed of his cow-skin, and lying on his back 
under the spout of a neighboring pump, whither the 
young man had carried him to cool his rage, and before 


324 


THE BEE HUNTER. 


he could recover from his astonishment at such an ex 
pected handling, he was as wet as a thrice drowned rat, 
from the cataracts of water which his laughing antago¬ 
nist had liberally pumped upon him. His courage, by 
this time, had fairly oozed out; and he declared, as he 
arose and went dripping away from the pumn, that he 
would never again trust to quiet appearances, and that 
the devil himself might, the next time, undertake to cow- 
skin such a cucumber-blooded scoundrel for him. The 
bystanders laughed heartily. The politician now went 
in pursuit of his horse and his woman, taking his yellow boy 
with him ; and the landlady declared that he richly de¬ 
served what he had got, even if he had been guilty of no 
other offence than the dirty imposition he had practiced 
on her. 

The stranger now came to me, and calling me by name, 
asked for his rifle and knife, which I returned to him. I 
expressed some astonishment at being known to him, and 
he said that he had heard of my being in the village, and 
had sought me out for the purpose of accompanying me 
to Texas. He told me that he was a bee hunter: that 
he had travelled pretty much over that country in the 
way of his business, and that I would find him of consid¬ 
erable use in navigating through the ocean of prairies. 

He told me that honey-trees are abundant in Texas, 
and that honey of an excellent quality, and in any quan¬ 
tity, may be obtained from them. There are persons 
who have a peculiar tact in coursing the bee, and thus 
discovering their deposits of the luscious food. This 
employment is not a mere pastime, but is profitable. 
The wax alone, thus obtained, is a valuable article of 


THIMBLERIG AND THE BEE HUNTER. 321 

commerce in Mexico, and commands a high price. It if 
much used in churches, where some of the candles mad# 
use of are as long as a man’s arm. It often happen* 
that the hunters throw away the honey, and save oni* 
the wax. 

“ It is a curious fact,” said the bee hunter, “ in the 
natural history of the bee, that it is never found in a 
wild country, but always precedes civilization, forming a 
kind of advance guard between the white man and the 
savage. The Indians, at least, are perfectly convinced 
of this fact, for it is a common remark among them, 
when they observe these insects, ‘ There come the white 
men.’ ” 

Thimblerig came up, and the bee hunter spoke to him, 
calling him by name, for he had met with him in New 
Orleans. I told him that the conjurer had determined 
to accompany me also, at which he seemed well pleased, 
and encouraged the poor fellow to adhere to that resolu¬ 
tion ; for he would be a man among men in Texas, and 
no one would be very particular in inquiring about his 
fortunes in the States. If once there, he might boldly 
stand up and feed out of the same rack with the rest. 

I asked him what was his cause of quarrel with the 
politician, and he told me that he had met him a few 
weeks before down at Baton Rouge, where the fellow was 
going the big figure, and that he had exposed him to 
some ladies, which completely cut his comb, and he took 
wing; that this was the first time they had met since, 
and being determined to have his revenge, he had at¬ 
tacked him without first calculating consequences. 


826 


START FOR NACOGDOCHES. 


With the assistance of our new friend, who was a gen¬ 
erous, pleasant fellow, we procured a horse and rifle for 
Thimblerig, and we started for Nacogdoches, which is 
fcbout one hundred and twenty miles west of Natchito¬ 
ches, under the guidance of the bee hunter. 


CHAPTER XXXI. 

Route to Nacogdoches—Accomplishments of the Bee Hanter— Story 
of Andrew Tumlinson—His death—Society in Texas—Arrival at 
Nacogdoches—Account of that place—Scene between the Bea 
Hunter and his lady-love—Departure from Nacogdoches. 

Our route, which lay along what is called the old 
Spanish road, I found to be much better defined on the 
map than upon the face of the country. We had, in 
many instances, no other guide to the path than the 
blazes on the trees. The Bee hunter was a cheerful, com¬ 
municative companion, and by his pleasant conversation, 
rendered our journey anything but fatiguing. He knew 
all about the country, had undergone a variety of adven¬ 
ture, and described what he had witnessed with such 
freshness, and so graphically, that if I could only remem¬ 
ber one half he told me about the droves of wild horses, 
buffalo, various birds, beautiful scenery of the wide- 
spreading and fertile prairies, and his adventures with 
the roving tribes of Indians, I should fill my book, I am 
sure, much more agreeably than I shall be able to do on 
my own hook. When he’d get tired of talking, he’d 
commence singing, and his list of songs seemed to be as 
long as a rainy Sunday. He had a fine, clear voice, and 
though I have heard the Woods sing at the Park The¬ 
atre, in New York, I must give the Bee hunter the pre- 


828 


INDIAN ADVENTURE. 


ference over all I have ever heard, except my friend Jim 
Crow, who, it must he allowed, is a real steamboat at the 
business, and goes a leetle ahead of anything that will 
come after him. 

He gave me, among other matters, the following ac- 
count of a rencounter between one of the early settlers 
and the Indians :— 

“ Andrew Tumlinson,” said he, “ belonged to a family 
which the colonists of De Witt will long remember as one 
of their chief stays in the dangers of settling those wilds 
trod only by the children of the forest. This indefati¬ 
gable champion of revenge for his father’s death, who 
had fallen some years. before by Indian treachery, had 
vowed never to rest until he had received satisfaction. 
In order the better to accomplish his end, he was one of 
the foremost, if possible, in every skirmish with the In¬ 
dians ; and that he might be enabled to do so without 
restraint, he placed his wife under the care of his bro¬ 
ther-in-law, shouldered his rifle and headed a ranging 
party, who were resolved to secure peace to those who 
followed them, though purchased by their own death. 

“ He had been frequently victorious in the most des¬ 
perate fights, where the odds were greatly against him, 
anl at last fell a victim to his own imprudence. A 
Caddo had been seized as a spy, and threatened with 
death, in order to compel him to deliver up his knife. 
The fellow never moved a muscle, or even winked, as he 
beheld the rifles pointed at him. He had been found 
lurking in the yard attached to the house of a solitary 
and unprotected family, and he knew that the whites 
were exasperated at his tribe for injuries that they had 


DEATH OF TUMLINSON. 


829 


committed. When discovered he was accompanied by 
his little son. 

“ Tumlinson spoke to him in Spanish, to learn what 
had brought him there at such a time, but instead of 
giving any satisfaction, he sprung to his feet, from the 
log where he was seated, at the same time seizing his 
rillc, which was lying beside him. The owner of the 
house, with whom the Indian had been on a friendly 
footing, expostulated with him, and got him to surrender 
the gun, telling him that the whites only wished to be 
satisfied of his friendly intentions, and had no desire to 
injure one who might be useful in conciliating his red 
brethren. 

“ He appeared to acquiesce, and wrapping his blanket 
more closely around his body, moved on in silence ahead 
of the whites. Tumlinson approached him, and though 
the rest of the party privately cautioned him not to go 
too nigh, as they believed the Indian had a knife under 
his blanket, he disregarded the warning, trusting for 
safety to his rifle and dexterity. 

“ He continued to interrogate the captive until he 
awakened his suspicions that his life was not safe. The 
Indian returned no answer but a short caustic laugh at 
the end of every question. Tumlinson at length beheld 
his countenance become more savage, which was followed 
by a sudden movement of the right hand beneath his 
blanket He fired, and the next instant the Caddo’s 
knife was in his heart, for the savage sprung with the 
quickness cf the wild cat upon his prey. The rifle ball 
had passed through the Indian’s body, yet his victim 
appeared tu be no more in his grasp than a sparrow m 


530 SOCIETY IN TEXAS. 

the talons of an eagle, for lie was a man of gigantic 
frame, and he knew that not only his own life, but that 
of his little son, would be taken on the spot. He called 
to the boy to fly, while he continued to plunge his knife 
into the bosom of his prostrate victim. The rest of the 
party leveled their rifles, and the victor shouted, with 
an air of triumph ,— 1 Do your worst. I have sacrificed 
another pale-face to the spirits of my fathers.’ They 
fired, and he fell dead across the body of the unfortu¬ 
nate Tumlinson. The poor boy fell also. He had 
sprung forward some distance, when his father was shot, 
and was running in a zigzag manner, taught them in 
their youth, to avoid the balls of their enemies, by ren¬ 
dering it difficult for the best marksman to draw a sight 
upon them.” 

In order to afford me some idea of the state of soci¬ 
ety in the more thickly settled parts of Texas, the Bee 
hunter told me that he had set down to the breakfast 
table one morning, at an inn, at San Felipe, and among 
the small party around the board were eleven who had 
fled from the States charged with having committed 
murder. So accustomed are the inhabitants to the ap¬ 
pearance of fugitives from justice, that they are particu¬ 
larly careful to make inquiries of the characters of 
new-comers, and generally obtain early and circum¬ 
stantial information concerning strangers. “ Indeed,” 
said he, “ it is very common to hear the inquiry made, 
‘ What did he do that made him leave home V or, i What 
have you come to Texas for ?’ intimating almost an as¬ 
surance of one’s being a criminal. Notwithstanding this 
state of things, however, the good of the public, and of 


BEACH NACOGDOCHES. 


831 


each individual, is so evidently dependent on the public 
morals, that all appear ready to discountenance and 
punish crime. Even men who have been expatriated 
by fear of justice, are here among the last who would 
be disposed to shield a culprit guilty of a crime against 
life or property.” 

Thimblerig was delighted at this favorable account of 
the state of society, and said that it would be the very 
place for him to flourish in; he liked their liberal way 
of thinking, for it did not at all tally with his ideas of 
natural law, that a man who happened to give offence to 
the straight laced rules of action established by a set of 
people contracted in their notions, should be hunted out 
of all society, even though willing to conform to their 
regulations. He was lawyer enough, he said, to know’ 
that every offence should be tried on the spot where it was 
committed; and if he had stolen the pennies from his 
grandmother’s eyes in Louisiana, the people in Texas 
would have nothing to do with that affair, nohow they 
could fix it. The dejected conjurer pricked up his ears, 
and from that moment was as gay and cheerful as a blue 
bird in spring. 

As we approached Nacogdoches, the first object that 
struck our view, was a flag flying at the top of a high 
liberty pole. Drums were beating, and fifes playing, 
giving an indication, not to be misunderstood, of the 
spirit that had been awakened in a comparative desert. 
The people of the town no sooner saw us than many came 
out to meet us. The Bee hunter, who was known to 
them, introduced m3; and it seems that they had already 


332 


NACOGDOCHES. 


received the news of my intended visit, and its object, 
and I met with a cordial and friendly reception. 

Nacogdoches is the capitol of the department of that 
name, and it is situated about sixty miles west of the 
river Sabine, in a romantic dell, surrounded by woody 
bluffs of considerable eminence, within whose inner bor¬ 
ders, in a semicircle embracing the town, flow the twc 
forks of the Nana, 2 branch of the Naches. It is a flour¬ 
ishing town, containing about one thousand actual citi¬ 
zens, although it generally presents twice that number 
on account of its extensive inland trade, one-half of 
which is supported by the friendly Indians. The 
healthiness of this town yields to none in the province, 
except Bexar, and to none whatsoever south of the same 
latitude, between the Sabine and the Mississippi. There 
was a fort established here, by the French, as far back 
as the year 1717, in order to overawe the wandering 
tribes of red men, between their borders and the colo¬ 
nists of Great Britain. The soil around it is of an easy 
nature and well adapted to cultivation. 

I passed the day at Nacogdoches in getting informa¬ 
tion from the principal patriots as to the grievances im¬ 
posed upon them by the Mexican government; and I 
passed the time very pleasantly, but I rather reckon not 
quite so much as my friend the Bee hunter. In the 
evening, as I had missed him for several hours, while 1 
was attending the affairs of the patriots, I inquired for 
my companion, and was dr ected by the landlord, to an 
apartment appropriated to his family, and accordingly I 
pushed ahead. Before I reached the door, I heard tha 


THE BEE HUNTER AND KATE. 


333 


joyous and musical voice of the young rover singing as 

usual. 

u I’d like to have a little farm, 

And leave such scenes as these, 

Where I could live, without a care, 

Completely at my ease. 

I’d like to have a pleasant house 
Upon my little farm, 

Airy and cool in summer time, 

In winter close and warm.” 

“ And is there nothing else you’d like to have to make 
you happy, Edward ?” demanded a gentle voice, which 
sounded even more musical in my ear than that of the 
Bee hunter. 

“ Yes, in good faith there is, my gentle Kate ; and I’ll 
tell you what it is,” he exclaimed, and resumed his 
song:— 

“ I’d like to have a little wife— 

I reckon I know who ; 

I’d like to have a little son— 

A little daughter too ; 

And when they’d climb upon my knee, 

I’d like a little toy 
To give my pretty little girl, 

Another for my boy.” 

“ 0, fie, for shame of you to talk so, Edward!” ex¬ 
claimed the same gentle voice. 

“Well, my pretty Kate, if you’ll only listen, now HI 
tell you what I wouldn’t like.” 

“Let me hear that, by all means.” 


834 


SCENE AT A TAVERN. 


I should not like my wife to shake 
A broomstick at my head— 

For then I might begin to think 
She did not love her Ned ; 

But I should always like to see 
Her gentle as a dove ; 

I should not like to have her scold— 

But be all joy and love.” 

44 And there is not much danger, Edward, of her ever 
being otherwise.” 

“Bless your sweet lips, that I am certain of,” ex¬ 
claimed the Bee hunter, and I heard something that 
sounded marvelously like a kiss. But he resumed his 
song:— 

“ If I had these I would not ask 
For anything beside; 

I’d be content thus smoothly through 
The tedious world to glide. 

My little wife and I would then 
No earthly troubles see— 

Surrounded by our little ones, 

How happy we would be !” 

I have always endeavored to act up to the golden rule 
of doing as I would be done by, and as I never liked to 
be interrupted on such occasions, I returned to the bar¬ 
room, where I found Thimblerig seated on a table prac¬ 
ticing with his thimbles, his large white Vicksburg h„ t 
stuck up in a most independent manner on the side of 
his head. About half a dozen men were looking on 
with amazement at his skill, but he got no bets. When 
he caught my eye, his countenance became sort of con¬ 
fused, and he hastily thrust the thimbles into his pocket. 


KATE. 


83*. 

Baying, as lie jumped from the table, “ Just amusing my¬ 
self a little, Colonel, to kill time, and show the native? 
that some things can be done as well as others. Let u? 
take an ideer.” So we walked up to the bar, took a 
nip, and let the matter drop. 

My horse had become lame, and I found I would not 
be able to proceed with him, so I concluded to sell him 
and get another. A gentleman offered to give me a 
mustang in exchange, and I gladly accepted of his kind¬ 
ness. The mustangs are the wild horses, that are to he 
seen in droves of thousands pasturing on the prairies. 
They are taken by means of a lasso, a long rope with a 
noose, which is thrown around their necks, and they are 
dragged to the ground with violence, and then secured. 
These horses, which are considerably smaller than those 
in the States, are very cheap, and are in such numbers 
that in times of scarcity of game the settlers and the In¬ 
dians have made use of them as food. Thousands have 
been destroyed for this purpose. 

I saw nothing of the Bee hunter until bed-time, and 
then I said nothing to him about what I had overheard. 
The next morning, as we were preparing for an early 
Btart, I went into the private apartment where my com¬ 
panion was, but he did not appear quite as cheerful as 
usual. Shortly afterward, a young woman, about eigh¬ 
teen, entered the room. She was as healthy and bloom¬ 
ing as the wild flowers of the prairie. My companion 
introduced me, she courtesied modestly, and turning to 
the Bee hunter, said, “Edward, I have made you a new 
deer-skin sack since you were last here. Will you take 
it with you ? Your old one is so soiled.” 


836 


KATE. 


“ No, no, dear Kate, I shall not have leisure to gatho* 
wax this time.” 

“ I have not yet shown you the fine large gourd that 
[ have slung for you. It will hold near a gallon of wa¬ 
ter.” She went to a closet, and producing it, suspended 
it around his shoulders. 

“My own kind Kate!” he exclaimed, and looked as 
if he would devour her with his eyes. 

“ Have I forgotten any thing ? Ah ! yes, your 
books.” She ran to a closet, and brought out two small 
volumes. 

“ One is sufficient this time, Kate—my Bible. 1 will 
leave the poet with you.” She placed it in his hunting 
bag, saying, 

“ You will find here some biscuit and deer sinews, in 
case you should get bewildered in the prairies. Y~ou 
know you lost your way the last time, and were nearly 
famished.” 

“ Kind and considerate Kate.” 

I began to find out that I was a sort of fifth wheel to 
the wagon, so I went to the front of the tavern to see 
about starting. There was a considerable crowd there, 
and I made them a short address on the occasion. I told 
them, among other things, that “ I will die with my Betsey 
in my arms. No, I will not die—I’ll grin down the 
walls of the Alamo, and the Americans will lick up the 
Mexicans like fine salt.” 

I mounted my little mustang, and my legs nearly 
reached the ground. The thimble conjurer was also 
ready; at length the Bee hunter made his appearance, 
followed by his sweetheart, whose eyes looked as though 


DEPARTURE FROM NACOGDOCHES. 


337 


she had been weeping. He took a cordial leave of all 
his friends, for he appeared to be a general favorite; he 
then approached Kate, kissed her, and leaped upon his 
horse. lie tried to conceal his emotion by singing, care- 
bssly, 

“Saddled and bridled, and booted rode he, 

A plume in his helmet, a sword at his knee.” 

The tremulous and plaintive voice of Kate took up 
the next two lines of the song, which sounded like a 
prophecy: 

* But toom cam’ the saddle, all bluidy to see, 

And hame cam’ the steed, but hame never cam’ be.” 

We started off rapidly, and left Nacogdoches amid the 
cheering of true patriots and kind friends.* 

* The story of the Bee hunter and his lady love forms one of the 
most agreeable episodes in this portion of the Colonel’s narrative. The 
Bee hunter is a very original and spirited character, of whom the 
reader is destined to meet with still more interesting particulars in 
the sequel. 

22 


CHAPTER XXXII. 


Incidents on the road—Tricks upon travelers—The mad dog hiax— 
Another curious trick—Cane brake—Wolves and game — The 
party joined by one of Lafitte’s pirates and an Indian hunter— 
Scene at the dinner table—Sudden disappearance of the Bee hunter 
—The party encounter an immense herd of buffaloes—The Colonel 
gives chase—Gets lost—Falls in with a herd of mustangs—A race 
with the mustangs—Reaches the Navasola river where the mus- 
tangs leave him. 

An hour or two elapsed before the Bee hunter recov¬ 
ered his usual spirits, after parting from his kind little 
Kate of Nacogdoches. The conjurer rallied him good- 
humoredly, and had become quite a different man from 
what he was on the west side of the Sabine. He sat 
erect in his saddle, stuck his large white Yicksburger 
conceitedly on his bushy head, carried his rifle with aa 
much ease and grace as if he had been used to the wea¬ 
pon, and altogether he assumed an air of impudence and 
independence which showed that he had now a soul above 
thimbles. The Bee hunter at length recovered his spirits, 
and commenced talking very pleasantly, for the matters 
he related were for the most part new to me. 

My companions, by way of beguiling the tediousness of 
our journey, repeatedly played tricks upon each other* 
which were taken in good part. One of them I will re¬ 
late. We had observed that the Bee hunter always dia- 
( 338 ) 


MAD DOG TRICK. 


83ft 


appeared on stopping at a house, running in to talk with 
the inhabitants and ingratiate himself with the women, 
leaving us to take care of the horses. On reaching our 
stopping place at night he left us as usual, and while we 
were rubbing down our mustangs, and hobbling them, a 
negro boy came out of the house with orders from our 
companion within to see to his horse. Thimblerig, who 
possessed a good share of roguish ingenuity, after some 
inquiries about the gentleman in the house, how he 
looked and what he was doing, told the boy, in rather a 
low voice, that he had better not come nearer to him than 
was necessary, for it was possible he might hurt him, though 
still he didn’t think he would. The boy asked why he 
need be afraid of him. He replied he did not certainly 
know that there was any reason—he hoped there was 
none—but the man had been bitten by a mad dog, and 
it was rather uncertain whether he was not growing mad 
himself. Still, he would not alarm the boy, but cautioned 
him not to be afraid, for there might be no danger, though 
there was something rather strange in the conduct of his 
poor friend. This was enough for the boy; he was al¬ 
most afraid to touch the horse of such a man, and when, 
a moment afterward, our companion came out of the 
house, he slunk away behind the horse, and though ho 
was in a great hurry to get him unsaddled, kept his eyes 
fixed steadily on the owner, closely watching his motions. 

“ Take off that bridle,” exclaimed the impatient Bee 
hunter, in a stern voice: and the black boy sprung off, 
and darted away as fast as his feet could carry him, 
much to the vexation and surprise of our companion, who 
ran after him a little distance, but could in no way ac* 


840 


MAD DOG TRICK. 


count for his singular and provoking conduct. When wo 
entered the house, things appeared a great deal more 
strange; for the negro had rushed hastily into the midst 
of the family, and in his terrified state communicated the 
alarming tale, that the gentleman had been bitten by a 
mad dog. He, unconscious all the time of the trick that 
was playing off, endeavored, as usual, to render himself 
as agreeable as possible, especially to the females with 
whom he had already formed a partial acquaintance. 
We could see that they looked on him with apprehension, 
and retreated whenever he approached them. One of 
them took an opportunity to inquire of Thimblerig the 
truth of the charge ; and his answer confirmed their fears, 
and redoubled their caution; though, after confessing 
with apparent candor, that his friend had been bitten, he 
Btated that there was no certainty of evil consequences, 
and it was a thing which of course could not be men¬ 
tioned to the sufferer. 

As bed time approached the mistress of the house ex¬ 
pressed her fears, lest trouble should arise in the night, 
for the house, according to custom, contained but two 
rooms, >.nd was not built for security. She therefore 
urged us to sleep between him and the door, and by no 
meat s to let him pass us. It so happened, however, that 
he chose to sleep next the door, and it was with great 
difficulty that we could keep their fears within bounds. 
The ill-disguised alarm of the whole family was not less 
a source of merriment to him who had been the cause, 
than of surprise and wonder to the subject of it. What¬ 
ever member of the household he approached promptly 
withdrew, and as for the negro, whenever he was spoken 


MORE TRICKS. 


341 


to by him, he would jump and roll his eyes. In the 
morning, when we were about to depart, we commissioned 
our belied companion to pay our bill; but as he ap¬ 
proached the hostess she fled from him, and shut the door 
in his face. “I want to pay our bill,” said he. “ Oh ! 
if you will only leave the house,” cried she, in terror, 
“ you are welcome to your lodging.” 

The jest, however, did not end here. The Bee hun¬ 
ter found out the trick that had been played upon him, 
and determined to retaliate. As we were about mounting, 
the conjurer’s big white Vicksburger was unaccountably 
missing, and nowhere to be found. He was not alto¬ 
gether pleased with the liberty that had been taken with 
him, and after searching some time in vain, he tied a 
handkerchief around his head, sprung upon his horse, 
and rode off with more gravity than usual. We had rode 
about two miles, the Bee hunter bantering the other with 
a story of his hat lying in pawn at the house we had left, 
and urged upon him to return and redeem it; but find 
ing Thimblerig out of humor, and resolved not to return, 
he began to repent of his jest, and offered to go back and 
bring it, on condition that the past should be forgotten 
and there should be no more retaliation. The other 
consented to the terms, s) lighting a cigar with his sun 
glass, he set off at a rapid rate on his return. He had 
not been gone long before I presented Thimblerig with 
his hat, for I had seen the Bee hunter conceal it, and 
had secretly brought it along with me. It was some time 
before our absent friend overtook us, having frightened 
all the family away by his sudden return, and searched 
the whole house without success. When he perceived 


CANE BRAKE. 


the object of his ride upon the head of the conjurer, and 
recollected the promise by which he had bound himself 
not to have any more jesting, he could only exclaim, 
“Well, it’s hard, but it’s fair.” We all laughed heartily, 
and good humor was once again restored. 

Cane brakes are common in some parts of Texas. Our 
way led us through one of considerable extent. The 
frequent passage of men and horses had kept open a nar¬ 
row path not wide enough for two mustangs to pass with 
convenience. The reeds, the same as are used in the 
northern states as fishing rods, had grown to the height 
of about twenty feet, and were so slender, that having 
no support directly over the path, they drooped a little 
inward, and intermingled their tops, forming a complete 
covering overhead. We rode about a quarter of a mile 
along this singular arched avenue with the view of the 
sky completely shut out. The Bee hunter told me that 
the largest brake is that which lines the banks of Caney 
Creek, and is seventy miles in length, with scarcely a 
tree to be seen the whole distance. The reeds are eaten 
by cattle and horses in the winter when the prairies yield 
little or no other food. 

When we came out of the brake we saw three black 
wolves jogging like dogs ahead of us, but at too great a 
distance to reach them with a rifle. Wild turkeys and 
deer repeatedly crossed our path, and we saw several 
droves of wild horses pasturing in the prairies. These 
sights awakened the ruling passion strong within me, and 
T longed to have a hunt upon a large scale; for though 
I had killed many bears and deer in my time, I had 
never brought down a buffalo in all my life, and so I told 


THE INDIAIT. 


81 $ 


my friends; but they tried to dissuade me from it, by 
telliog me that I would certainly lose my way, and per¬ 
haps perish; for though it appeared as a cultivated gar¬ 
den to the eye, it was still a wilderness. I said little 
more on the subject until we crossed the Trinidad river, 
but every mile we traveled I found the temptation grow 
stronger and stronger. 

The night after we crossed the river we fortunately 
found shelter in the house of a poor woman, who had 
little but the barest necessaries to offer us. While we 
were securing our horses for the night we beheld two 
men approaching the house on foot. They were both 
armed with rifles and hunting-knives, and though I have 
been accustomed to the sight of men who have not stepped 
far over the line of civilization, I must say these were 
just about the roughest samples I had seen any where. 
One was a man of about fifty years old, tall and raw- 
boned. He was dressed in a sailor’s round jacket, with 
a tarpaulin on his head. His whiskers nearly covered his 
face; his hair was coal black and long, and there was a 
deep scar across his forehead, and another on the back 
of his right hand. His companion, who was consider¬ 
ably younger, was bare-headed, and clad in a deer-skin 
dress made after our fashion. Though he was not much 
darker than the old man, I perceived that he was an In¬ 
dian. They spoke friendly to the Bee hunter, for they 
both knew him, and said they were on their way to join 
the Texan forces, at that time near the San Antonio 
river. Though they had started without horses, they 
reckoned they would come across a couple before they 
went much farther. The right of ownership to horse 


THE PIRATE. 


*44 

flesh is not much regarded in Texas, for those that have 
been taken from the wild droves are soon after turned 
out to graze on the prairies, the owner having first 
branded them with his mark, and hobbled them by tying 
their fore feet together, which will enable another to 
capture them just as readily as himself. 

The old woman set about preparing our supper, and 
apologized for the homely fare, which consisted of bacon 
and fried onions, when the Indian went to a bag and 
produced a number of eggs of wild fowls, and a brace 
of fat rabbits, which were speedily dressed, and we made 
as good a meal as a hungry man need wish to set down 
to. The old man spoke very little: but the Indian, who 
had lived much among the whites, was talkative, and 
manifested much impatience to arrive at the army. The 
first opportunity that occurred I inquired of the Bee 
hunter who our new friends were, and he told me that 
the old man had been for many years a pirate witb the 
famous Lafitte, and that the Indian was a hunter belong¬ 
ing to a settler near Galveston Bay. I had seen enough 
of land rats at Washington, but this was the first time 
that I was ever in company with a water rat to my 
knowledge; however, baiting that black spot on his es¬ 
cutcheon, he was a well-behaved and inoffensive man. 
Vice does not appear so shocking when we are familiar 
with the perpetrator of it. 

Thimblerig was for taking airs upon himself aftei 
learning who our companions were, and protested to me, 
that he would not sit down at the same table with a man 
who had outraged the laws in such a manner;—foi it 
was due to society that honest men should discounte- 


SCENE AT THE DINNER TABLE. 845 

Dance such unprincipled characters, and much more to 
the same effect; when the old man speedily dissipated 
the gambler’s indignant feelings by calmly saying, 
“ Stranger, you had better take a seat at the table, I 
think,” at the same time drawing a long hunting-knife 
from his belt, and laying it cn the table. “ I think you 
had better take some supper with us,” he added, in a 
mild tone, but fixing his eye sternly upon Thimblerig. 
The conjurer first eyed the knife, and then the fierce 
whiskers of the pirate, and, unlike some politicians, he 
wasn’t long in making up his mind what course to pur¬ 
sue, but he determined to vote as the pirate voted, and 
said, “ I second that motion, stranger,” at the same time 
seating himself on the bench beside me. The old man 
then commenced cutting up the meat, for which purpose 
he had drawn his hunting-knife, though the gambler had 
thought it was for a different purpose; and being re¬ 
lieved from his fears, everything passed off quite soci¬ 
able. 

Early the following morning we compensated the old 
woman for the trouble she had been at, and we mounted 
our horses and pursued our journey, our new friends 
following on foot, but promising to arrive at the Alamo 
as soon as we should. About noon we stopped to re¬ 
fresh our horses beneath a cluster of trees that stood in 
the open prairie, and I again spoke of my longing for a 
buffalo hunt. We were all seated on the grass, and 
they strived hard to dissuade me from the folly of 
allowing a ruling passion to lead me into such imminent 
danger and difficulty as I must necessarily encounter. 
At this time, while they were running down my weak- 


840 DISAPPEARANCE OF THE BEE-HUNTER. 

ness, as they called it, Thimblerig was amusing himself 
with his eternal thimbles and pea upon the crown of his 
big white hat. I could not refrain from laughing out- 
right to see with what gravity and apparent interest he 
slipped the pea from one thimble to another while in the 
midst of a desert. Man is a queer animal, and Colonel 
Dick Johnson is disposed to make him even queerer 
than Dame Nature originally intended. 

The Bee hunter told me, that if I was determined to 
leave them, he had in his bag a paper of ground coffee, 
and biscuit, which little Kate of Nacogdoches had de¬ 
sired him to carry for my use, which he handed to me, 
and proposed drinking her health, saying that she was 
one of the kindest and purest of God’s creatures. We 
drank her health, and wished him all happiness when 
she should be his own, which time he looked forward to 
with impatience. He still continued to dissuade me 
from leaving them, and all the time he was talking his 
eyes were wandering above, when suddenly he stopped, 
sprang to his feet, looked around for a moment, then 
leaped on his mustang, and without saying a word, 
started off like mad, and scoured along the prairie. We 
watched him, gradually diminishing in size, until he 
seemed no larger than a rat, and finally disappeared in 
the distance. I was amazed, and thought to be sure the 
man was crazy; and Thimblerig, who continued his 
game, responded that he was unquestionably out of his 
head. 

Shortly after the Bee hunter had disappeared, we 
heard a noise like the rumbling of distant thunder. The 
sky was clear, there were no signs of a storm, and we 


HERD OF BUFFALOES. 


841 

concluded it could not proceed from that cause. On 
turning to the west, we saw an immense cloud of dust 
in the distance, but could perceive no object distinctly, 
and still the roaring continued. “What can all this 
mean?” said I. “ Burn my old shoes if I know,” said 
the conjurer, gathering up his thimbles, and at the same 
time cocking his large Yicksburger fiercely on his head. 
We continued looking in the direction whence the sound 
proceeded, the cloud of dust became thicker and thicker, 
and the roaring more distinct—much louder than wa3 
ever heard in the White House at Washington. 

We at first imagined that it was a tornado, but what¬ 
ever it was, it was coming directly toward the spot 
where we stood. Our mustangs had ceased to graze, 
and cocked up their ears in evident alarm. We ran 
and caught them, took off the hobbles, and rode into the 
grove of trees;—still the noise grew louder and louder. 
We had scarcely got under the shelter of the grove be¬ 
fore the object approached near enough for us to ascer¬ 
tain what it was. It was a herd of buffalo, at least four 
or five hundred in number, dashing along as swift as the 
wind, and roaring as if so many devils had broke loose. 
They passed near the grove, and if we had not taken 
shelter there, we should have been in great danger of 
being trampled to death. My poor little mustang she ok 
worse than a politician about to be turned out of office, 
as the drove came sweeping by. At their head, apart 
from the rest, was a black bull, who appeared to be their 
leader; he came roaring along, his tail straight on an 
end, and at times tossing up the earth with his horns. 
I never felt such a desire to have a crack at anything 


348 


CHASE OF THE BUFFALOES. 


in all my life. He drew nigh the place where I was 
standing; I raised my beautiful Betsey to my shoulder, 
took deliberate aim, blazed away, and he roared and 
suddenly stopped. Those that were near him did so 
likewise, and the concussion occasioned by the impetus 
of those in the rear was such, that it was a miracle that 
some of them did not breaL their legs or necks. The 
black bull stood for a few moments pawing the ground 
after he was shot, then darted off around the cluster of 
trees, and made for the uplands of the prairies. The 
whole herd followed, sweeping by like a tornado, and I 
do say, I never witnessed a more beautiful sight to the 
eye of a hunter in all my life. Bear hunting is no more 
to be compared to it than Colonel Benton is to Henry 
Clay. I watched them for a few moments, then clapped 
spurs to my mustang and followed in their wake, leaving 
Thimblerig behind me. 

I followed on the trail of the herd for at least two 
hours, by which time the moving mass appeared like a 
small cloud in the distant horizon. Still, I followed, 
my whole mind absorbed by the excitement of the chase, 
until the object was entirely lost in the distance. I now 
paused to allow my mustang to breathe, who did not 
altogether fancy the rapidity of my movements, and to 
consider which course I would have to take to regain the 
path I had abandoned. I might have retraced my steps 
by following the trail of the buffaloes, but it had always 
been my principle to go ahead, and so I turned to the 
west and pushed forward. 

I had not rode more than an hour before I found I 
was as completely bewildered as “the Government” wa* 











































































































s 



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i 














CROCKETT LOST. 


when he entered upon an examination of the post-office 
accounts. I looked around, and there was, as far as 
the eye could reach, spread before me a country appa¬ 
rently in the highest state of cultivation. Extended 
fields, beautiful and productive, groves of trees cleared 
from the underwood, and whose margins were as regular 
as if the art and taste of man had been employed upon 
them. But there was no other evidence that the sound 
of the axe, or the voice of man, had ever here disturbed 
the solitude of nature. My eyes would have cheated my 
senses into the belief that I was in an earthly paradise, 
but my fears told me that I was in a wilderness. 

I pushed along, following the sun, for I had no com 
pass to guide me, and there was no other path than that 
which my mustang made. Indeed, if I had found a 
beaten track, I should have been almost afraid to have 
followed it; for my friend the Bee hunter had told me, 
that once, when he had been lost in the prairies, he had 
accidentally struck into his own path, and had traveled 
around and around for a whole day before he discovered 
his error. This I thought was a poor way of going 
ahead; so I determined to make for the first largo 
stream, and follow its course. 

I had traveled several hours without seeing the traco 
of a human being, and even game was almost as scarce 
as Benton’s mint drops, except just about election time, 
anl I began to wish that I had followed the advice of my 
companions. I was a good deal bothered to account for 
the abrupt manner in which the Bee hunter had abscon* 
ded; and I felt concerned for the poor thimble conjurer, 
who was left alone, and altogether unaccustomed to the 


850 


THE MUSTANGS. 


difficulties that he would have to encounter. While my 
mind was occupied with these unpleasant reflections, 1 
was suddenly startled by another novelty quite as great 
as that I have just described. 

I had just emerged from a beautiful grove of trees, 
and was entering upon an extended prairie, which looked 
like the luxuriant meadows of a thrifty farmer; and as 
if nothing should be wanting to complete the delusion, 
but a short distance before me, there was a drove of 
about one hundred beautiful horses quietly pasturing. 
It required some effort to convince my mind that man had 
no agency in this. But when I looked around, and fully 
realized it all, I thought of him who had preached to me 
in the wilds of the Arkansas, and involuntarily exclaimed, 
“ God, what hast thou not done for man, and yet how little 
he does for thee! Not even repays thee with gratitude !” 

I entered upon the prairie. The mustangs no sooner 
espied me than they raised their heads, whinnied, and 
began coursing around me in an extended circle, which 
gradually became smaller and smaller, until they closely 
surrounded me. My little rascally mustang enjoyed the 
sport, and felt disposed to renew his acquaintance with 
his wild companions; first turning his head to one, then 
to another, playfully biting the neck of this one, rubbing 
noses with that one, and kicking up his heels at a third. 
1 began to feel rather uncomfortable, and plied the spur 
pretty briskly to get out of the mess, but he was as ob¬ 
stinate as the “ old Roman” himself, who will neither be 
led nor driven. I kicked, and he kicked, but fortunately 
he became tired first, and he made one start, intending 
to escape from the annoyance if possible. As I had an 


A RACE. 


851 


annoyance to escape from likewise, I beat the devil’s 
tattoo on bis ribs, that he might have some music to 
dance to, and we went ahead right merrily, the whole 
drore following in our wake, head up, and tail and manes 
streaming. My little critter, who was both blood and 
bottom, seemed delighted at being at the head of the 
heap; and having once got fairly started, I wish I may 
be shot if I did not find it impossible to stop him. Ho 
kept along, tossing his head proudly, and occasionally 
neighing, as much as to say, “ Come on, my hearties, 
you see I ha’n’t forgot our old amusement yet.” And 
they did come on with a vengeance, clatter, clatter, clat¬ 
ter, as if so many fiends had broke loose. The prairie 
lay extended before me as far as the eye could reach, 
and I began to think that there would be no end to the 
race. 

My little animal was full of fire and mettle, and as it 
was the first bit of genuine sport that he had had for 
some time, he appeared determined to make the most of 
it. He kept the lead for full half an hour, frequently 
neighing as if in triumph and derision. I thought of 
John Gilpin’s celebrated ride, but that was child’s play 
to this. The proverb says, “ The race is not always to 
the swift, nor the battle to the strong,” and so it proved 
in the present instance. My mustang was obliged to 
carry weight, while his competitors were as free as nature 
had made them. A beautiful bay, who had trod close 
upon my heels the whole way, now came side by side 
with my mustang, and we had it hip and thigh for about 
ten minutes, in such style as would have delighted the 
heart of a true lover of the turf. I now felt an interest 


352 


NAVASOLA RIVER. 


in the race myself, and for the credit of my hit of blood* 
determined to win it if it was at all in the nature cf 
things. I plied the lash and spur, and the little crittei 
took it quite kindly, and tossed his head, and neighed, 
as much as to say, “ Colonel, I know what you’re after— 
Go ahead!”—and he cut dirt in beautiful style, I tell 
pu. 

This could not last for ever. At length my competi¬ 
tor darted ahead, somewhat the same way that Adam 
Huntsman served me last election, except that there was 
no gouging; and my little fellow was compelled to clat¬ 
ter after his tail, like a needy politician after an office 
holder when he wants his influence, and which my mus¬ 
tang found it quite as difficult to reach. He hung on 
like grim death for some time longer, but at last his am¬ 
bition began to flag; and having lost his ground, others 
seemed to think that he was not the mighty critter he 
was cracked up to be, no how, and they tried to outstrip 
him also. A second shot ahead, and he kicked up his 
heels in derision as he passed us; then a third, a fourth, 
and so on, and even the scrubbiest little rascal in the 
whole drove was disposed to have a fling at their broken 
down leader. A true picture of politicians and their 
truckling followers, thought I. We now followed among 
the last of the drove until we came to the banks of the 
Navasola river. The foremost leaped from the margin 
into the rushing stream, the others, politician like, fol¬ 
lowed him, though he would lead them to destruction; 
but my wearied animal fell on the banks, completely ex 
hausted with fatigue. It was a beautiful sight to seo 
them stemming the torrent, ascend the opposite ban * 


THE WEAIHED ANIMAL. 


85d 

ami scour over the plain, having been refreshed by the 
water. I relieved my wearied animal from the saddle, 
and employed what means were in my power to restoro 
him.* 

* This characteristic episode in the Colonel’s eventful journey to 
Texas, will afford instruction as well as pleasure to the reader. The 
chase of the great herd of buffaloes, and the race with the other herd 
of mustangs, are entirely consistent with the go-ahead character of 
C dor el Crockett. He was always ready to enter upon any perilous 
adventure which offered itself; and not less ready, as wc shall pro* 
sently see, to meet with resolute composure the inevitable consequen¬ 
ces of his rashness. 

U 


CHAPTER XXXIII. 


rhe Co Duel’s mustang apparently very ill—The Colonel Las a hard 
fight with a Cougar, and kills him—Passes the night in a tree— 
Loses his mustang—Breakfasts on roast goose—Falls in with a 
party of Camanches—Ride with them—Singular recovery of bis 
mustang—A prairie on fire—Politeness of the Camanches—Meet¬ 
ing with Thimblerig— Re-union of the whole party—Meeting with 
a band of Mexicans—A fight—The Mexicans beaten and put to 
flight—Arrival at the Alamo. 

After toiling for more than an hour to get my mus¬ 
tang upon his feet again, I gave it up as a bad job, as 
little Van did when he attempted to raise himself to the 
moon by the waistband of his breeches. Night was fast 
closing in, and as I began to think that I had just about 
sport enough for one day, I might as well look around 
for a place of shelter for the night, and take a fresh start 
in the morning, by which time I was in hopes my horse 
would be recruited. Near the margin of the river a 
large tree had been blown down, and I thought of making 
my lair in its top, and approached it for that purpose. 
While beating among the branches I heard a low growl, 
as much as to say, “ Stranger, the apartments are already 
taken.” Looking about to see what sort of a bed-fellow 
I was likely to have, I discovered, not more than five or 
six paces from me, an enormous Mexican Cougar, eyeing 
me as an epicure surveys the table before he selects his 
( 354 ) 


A COUGAR. 


330 


disli, for I have no doubt the cougar looked upon me as 
the subject of a future supper. Rajs of light darted 
from his large eyes, he showed his teeth like a negro in 
hysterics, and he was crouching on his haunches ready 
for a spring; all of which convinced me that unless I 
vas pretty quick upon the trigger, posterity would know 
little of the termination of my eventful career, and it 
would be far less glorious and useful than I intend to 
make it. 

One glance satisfied me that there was no time to be 
lost, as Pat thought when falling from a church steej le, 
and exclaimed, “ This would be mighty pleasant, now, 
if it would only last,”—but there was no retreat either 
for me or the cougar, so I leveled my Betsey and blazed 
away. The report was followed by a furious growl, 
(which is sometimes the case in Congress,) and the next 
moment, when I expected to find the tarnal critter strug¬ 
gling with death, I beheld him shaking his head as if no¬ 
thing more than a bee had stung him. The ball had 
struck him on the forehead and glanced off, doing no 
other injury than stunning him for an instant, and tear¬ 
ing off the skin, which tended to infuriate him the more. 
The cougar wasn’t long in making up his mind what to 
do, nor was I neither; but he would have it all his own 
way, and vetoed my motion to back out. I had not re¬ 
treated three steps before he sprang at me like a steam¬ 
boat ; I stepped aside, and as he lit upon the ground, I 
struck him violently with the barrel of my rifle, but he 
didn’t mind that, but wheeled around and made at mo 
again. The gun was now of no use, so I threw it away, 
and drew my hunting knife, for I knew we should come 


FIGHT WITH A COUGAR. 


*56 

to close quarters before the fight would be over. Thi* 
time he succeeded in fastening on my left arm, and waa 
just beginning to amuse himself by tearing the flesh off 
with his fangs, when I ripped my knife into his side, and 
he let go his hold much to my satisfaction. 

He wheeled about and came at me with increased fury, 
occasioned by the smarting of his wounds. I now tried 
to blind him, knowing that if I succeeded he would be¬ 
come an easy prey ; so as he approached me I watched 
my opportunity, and aimed a blow at his eyes with my 
knife, but unfortunately it struck him on the nose, and 
he paid no other attention to it than by a shake of the 
head and a low growl. He pressed me close, and as I 
was stepping backward my foot tripped in a vine, and I 
fell to the ground. He was down upon me like a night- 
hawk upon a June bug. He seized hold of the outer 
part of my right thigh, which afforded him considerable 
amusement; the hinder part of his body was towards 
my face; I grasped his tail with my left hand, and 
tickled his ribs with my hunting knife, which I held in 
my right. Still the critter wouldn’t let go his hold ; 
and as I found that he would lacerate my leg dreadfully, 
unless he was speedily shaken off, I tried to hurl him 
down the bank into the river, for our scuffle had already 
brought us to the edge of the bank. I stuck my knife 
into his side, and summoned all my strength to throw 
him over. He resisted, was desperate heavy ; but at 
last I got him so far down the declivity that he lost his 
balance, and he rolled over and over till he landed on the 
margin of the river; but in his fall he dragged me along 
with him. Fortunately, I fell uppermost, and his neck 


COLONEL CROCKETT S ENCOUNTER W ITH A COUGAR. 




































































































































































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SLEEPING IN A TREE. 


357 


presented a fair mark for my hunting kniie. Without 
allowing myself time even to draw breath, I aimed one 
desperate blow at ids neck, and the knife entered his 
gullet up to the handle, and reached his heart. lie 
struggled for a few moments, and died. I have had 
many fights with bears, but that was mere child’s play ; 
this was the first fight ever I had with a cougar, and I 
hope it may be the last. 

I now returned to the tree-top to see if any one else 
would dispute my lodging; hut now I could take peace¬ 
able and quiet possession. I parted some of the branch¬ 
es, and cut away others to make a bed in the opening; 
I then gathered a quantity of moss, which hung in fes¬ 
toons from the trees, which I spread on the litter, and 
over this I spread my horse blanket; and I had as com¬ 
fortable a bed as a weary man need ask for. I now took 
another look at my mustang, and from all appearances, 
he would not live until morning. I ate some of the cakes 
that little Kate of Nacogdoches had made for me, and 
then carried my saddle into my tree top, and threw my¬ 
self down upon my bed with no very pleasant reflections 
at the prospect before me. 

I was weary, and soon fell asleep, and did not awake 
until daybreak the next day. I felt somewhat stiff and 
sore from the wounds I had received in the conflict with 
the cougar; but I considered myself as having made a 
lucky escape. I looked over the bank, and as I saw the 
carcass of the cougar lying there, I thought that it was 
an even chance that we had not exchanged conditions; 
and I felt grateful that the fight had ended as it dil I 
now went to look after my mustang, fully expecting to 


358 


A BREAKFAST. 


find him as dead as the cougar; but what was my aston¬ 
ishment to find that he had disappeared without leaving 
trace of hair or hide of him ! I first supposed that some 
beasts of prey had consumed the poor critter ; but then 
they wouldn’t have eaten his bones, and he had vanished 
as effectually as the deposites, without leaving any mark 
of the course they had taken. This bothered me ama¬ 
zing ; I couldn’t figure it out by any rule that I had ever 
heard of, so I concluded to think no more about it. 

I felt a craving for something to eat, and looking 
around for some game, I saw a flock of geese on the 
shore of the river. I shot a fine, fat gander, and soon 
stripped him of his feathers: and gathering some light 
wood, I kindled a fire, run a long stick through my 
goose for a spit, and put it down to roast, supported by 
two sticks with prongs. I had a desire for some coffee; 
and having a tin cup with me, I poured the paper of 
ground coffee that I had received from the bee hunter 
into it, and made a strong cup, which was very refresh¬ 
ing. Off of my goose and biscuit I made a hearty meal, 
and was preparing to depart without clearing up the 
breakfast things, or knowing which direction to pursue, 
w r hen I w r as somewhat taken aback by another of the wild 
scenes of the west. I heard a sound like' the trampling 
of many horses, and I thought to be sure the mustangs 
or buffaloes w r ere coming upon me again ; but, on raising 
my head, I beheld in the distance about fifty mounted 
Camanches, with their spears glittering in the morning 
buii, dashing toward the spot where I stood at full speed. 
As the column advanced, it divided, according to their 
usual practice, into two semicircles, and in an instant I 


ENCOUNTER WITH THE CAMANCnES* 


358 


was surrounded. Quicker than thought I sprang to my 
rifle, but as my hand grasped it, I felt that resistance 
against so many would be of as little use as pumping for 
thunder in dry weather. 

The chief was for making love to my beautiful Betsey, 
but 1 clung fast to her, and assuming an air of compo¬ 
sure, I demanded whether their nation was at war with 
the Americans. “No,” was the reply. “Do you like 
the Americans?” “Yes; they are our friends.” 
“ Where do you get your spear heads, your rifles, ycur 
blankets, and your knives from?” “Get them from 
our friends, the Americans.” “ Well, do you think, if 
you were passing through their nation, as I am passing 
through yours, they would attempt to rob you of your 
property?” “No, they would feed me, and protect 
me; and the Camanche will do the same by his white 
brother.” 

I now asked him what it was had directed him to the 
spot where I was, and he told me, that they had seen 
the smoke from a great distance, and had come to sec 
the cause of it. He inquired what had brought me there 
alone; and I told him that I had come to hunt, and 
that my mustang had become exhausted, and though I 
thought he was about to die, that he had escaped from 
me ; at which the chief gave a low chuckling laugh, and 
said it was all a trick of the mustang, which is the most 
wily and cunning of all animals. But he said, that as 
I was a brave hunter, he would furnish me with another; 
he gave orders, and a fine young horse was immediately 
brought forward. 

When the party approached there were three old 


860 


RIDE WITH THE CAMANCHES. 


Bquaws at their head, who made a noise with theh 
mouths, and served as trumpeters. I now told the chiet 
that, as I now had a horse, I would go for my saddle* 
which was in the place where I had slept. As I ap¬ 
proached the spot I discovered one of the squaws de¬ 
vouring the remains of my roasted goose, hut my saddle 
and bridle were nowhere to be found. Almost in des¬ 
pair of seeing them again, I observed, in a thicket at a 
little distance, one of the trumpeters kicking and bela¬ 
boring her horse to make him move off, W’hile the saga¬ 
cious beast would not move a step from the troop. I 
followed her, and, thanks to her restive mustang, secured 
my property, which the chief made her restore to me. 
Some of the warriors had by this time discovered the 
body of the cougar, and had already commenced skin¬ 
ning it; and seeing how many stabs were about it, I 
related to the chief the desperate struggle I had had; 
he said, “Brave hunter, brave man,” and wished me to 
be adopted into his tribe, but I respectfully declined the 
honor. He then offered to see me on my way; and I 
asked him to accompany me to the Colorado river, if he 
was going in that direction, which he agreed to do. 1 
put my saddle on my fresh horse, mounted, and wo 
darted off, at a rate not much slower than I had rode 
the day previous with the wild herd, the old squaws at 
the head of the troop braying like young jackasses the 
whole way. 

About three hours after starting we saw a drove of 
mustangs quietly pasturing in the prairie at a distauce. 
One of the Indians immediately got his lasso ready, 
which was a long rope made of hide plaited like winy 


RECOVERY OF TIIE MUSTANG. 


861 


cord, with an iron ring at one end, through which the 
rope was passed so as to form a noose; and thus pre¬ 
pared, he darted ahead of the troop to make a capture. 
They allowed him to approach pretty nigh, he all the 
time flourishing his lasso; but before he got within 
reaching distance, they started off at a brisk canter, 
made two or three wide circuits around him, as if they 
would spy out what he was after, then abruptly changed 
their course and disappeared. One mustang out of all 
the drove remained standing quietly; the Indian made 
up to him, threw the lasso, but the mustang dodged his 
head between his fore legs, and escaped the noose, but 
did not attempt to escape. The Indian then rode up to 
him, and the horse very patiently submitted while he 
put a bridle on him, and secured him. When I ap¬ 
proached, I immediately recognized in the captive the 
pestilent little animal that had shammed sickness and 
escaped from me the day before; and when he caught 
my eye he cast down his head and looked rather sheep¬ 
ish, as if he were sensible and ashamed of the dirty 
trick he had played me. I expressed my astonishment 
to the Indian chief at the mustang’s allowing himself to 
be captured without an effort to eecape; and he told me, 
that they are generally hurled to the ground with such 
tiolence when first taken with the lasso, that they re¬ 
member it ever after, and that the sight of it will sub 
duo them to submission, though they may have run wild 
for years. Just so with an office-holder, who, being 
kicked out, turns patriot—shake a commission at him, 
and the fire of his patriotism usually escapes in smoke. 

We traveled all day, and toward evening wt <*»*** 


862 


PRAIRIE ON FIRE. 


across a small drove of buffaloes ; and it was a beautiful 
sight to behold with what skill the Indians hunted down 
this noble game. There are no horsemen who ride more 
gracefully than the Cumanclies; and they sit so closely, 
and hold such absolute control over the horse, that he 
seems to be part of their own person. I had the good 
fortune to bring down a young heifer, and as it was the 
only beef that we killed, the chief again complimented 
me as being a brave hunter; and while they were pre¬ 
paring the heifer for our supper, I related to him many 
of my hunting exploits, at which he manifested pleasure 
and much astonishment for an Indian. He again urged 
upon me to become one of the tribe. 

We made a hearty supper, hobbled our mustangs, 
which we turned into the prairie to graze, and then en¬ 
camped for the night. I awoke about two hours before 
daybreak, and looking over the tract of country through 
which we had traveled, the sky was as bright and cleat 
as if the sun had already risen. I watched it for some 
time without being able to account for it, and asked my 
friend, the chief, to explain, who told me that the prairie 
was on fire, and that it must have caught when we 
cooked our dinner. I have seen hundreds of acres of 
mountain timber on fire in my time, but this is the first 
time that I ever saw a prairie burning. 

Nothing of interest occurred until we reached the 
Colorado, and were following the river to the place where 
ft crosses the road to Bexar, which place the Indiana 
promised to conduct me to. We saw a light column of 
smoke ascending in the clear sky, and hastened toward 
it. It proceeded from a small cluster of trees near the 


POLITENESS OF THE CUMANCHES. 3G3 

river. When we came within five hundred yards of it, 
the warriors extended their line around the object, and 
the chief and myself cautiously approached it. When 
we came within eyeshot, what was my astonishment to 
discover a solitary man seated on the ground near the 
fire, so intent upon some pursuit that he did not perceive 
our approach. We drew nigh to him, and still he was 
unconscious of our approach. It was poor Thimblerig, 
practicing his game of thimbles upon the crown of his 
white Vicksburger. This is what I call the ruling pas¬ 
sion most amazing strong. The chief shouted the war 
whoop, and suddenly the warriors came rushing in from 
all quarters, preceded by the old squaw trumpeters 
squalling like mad. The conjurer sprang to his feet, 
and was ready to sink into the earth when he beheld the 
ferocious looking fellows that surrounded him. I stepped 
up, took him by the hand, and quieted his fears. I told 
the chief that he was a friend of mine, and I was very 
glad to have found him, for I was afraid that he had 
perished. I now thanked him for his kindness in guiding 
me over the prairies, and gave him a large Bowie knife, 
which he said he would keep for the sake of the brave 
hunter. The whole squadron then wheeled off, and I 
saw them no more. I have met with many polite men 
in my time, but no one who possessed in a greater 
degree what may he called true spontaneous politeness 
than this Cumanche chief, always excepting Philip Hone, 
Esq., of New York, whom I look upon as the politest 
man I ever did see; for when he asked me to take a 
drink at his own sideboard he turned his back upon me, 


364 THIMBLERIG AND THE BEE HUNTER. 

that I mightn’t be ashamed to fill as much as I wanted. 
That was what I call doing the fair thing. 

Thimblerig was delighted at meeting me again, but it 
was some time before he recovered sufficiently from the 
cold sw’eat into which the sudden appearance of the In¬ 
dians had thrown him to recount his adventures to me. 
He said that he felt rather dow T n-hearted when he found 
himself abandoned both by the Bee hunter and myself, 
and he knew not which course to pursue; but after 
thinking about the matter for two hours, he had made up 
his mind to retrace the road we had traveled over, and 
had mounted his mustang for that purpose, when he spied 
the Bee hunter laden w r ith honey. The mystery of his 
abrupt departure was now fully accounted for; he had 
spied a solitary bee shaping its course to its hive, and 
at the moment he couldn’t control the ruling passion, 
but followed the bee without reflecting for a moment up¬ 
on the difficulties and dangers that his thoughtlessness 
might occasion his friends. 

I now asked him what had become of the Bee hunter, 
and he said that he had gone out in pursuit of game for 
their supper, and he expected that he would return 
shortly, as he had been absent at least an hour. While 
we were still speaking our friend appeared, bending un¬ 
der the weight of a wild turkey. He manifested great 
joy at meeting with me so unexpectedly; and desiring 
the conjurer to pluck the feathers of the bird, which he 
cheerfully undertook, for he said lie had been accustomed 
to plucking pigeons, we set about preparing our supper. 

The position we occupied 'was directly on the route 
leading to Bexar, and at the crossings of the Colorado. 



MEETING WITII FRIENDS. 


865 


We were about to commence our supper, for the turkey 
^as done in beautiful style, when the sound of a horse 
neighing startled us. We looked over the prairie, and 
beheld two men approaching on horseback, and both 
armed with rifles and knives. The Bee hunter said that 
it was time for us to be on our guard, for we should 
meet, perhaps, more enemies than friends as soon as we 
crossed the river, and the new comers were making di¬ 
rectly for the spot we occupied; but, as they were only 
two, it occasioned no uneasiness. 

As they drew nigh we recognized the strangers; they 
turned out to be the old pirate and the Indian hunter 
who had lodged with us a few nights before. We hailed 
them, and on seeing us they alighted and asked permis¬ 
sion to join our party, which we gladly agreed to, as our 
journey was becoming rather more perilous every mile 
we advanced. They partook of our turkey, and as they 
had some small cakes of bread, which they threw into the 
general stock, we made a hearty supper: and, after a 
battle song from the Bee hunter, we prepared to rest for 
the night. 

Early next morning we crossed the river and pushed 
forward for the fortress of Alamo. The old pirate was 
taciturn as ever, but his companion was talkative and in 
good spirits. I asked him where he had procured their 
mustangs, and he said he had found them hobbled in 
Burnet’s Grant, just at a time that he felt very tired; 
and as he believed that no one would lay claim to them 
at Bexar, he couldn’t resist mounting one, and persua¬ 
ding his friend to mount the other. 

Nothing of interest occurred until we came within 


366 


MEETING A BAND OF MEXICANS. 


about twenty miles of San Antonio. We were in the 
open prairie, and beheld a band of about fifteen or 
twenty armed men approaching us at full speed. “ Look 
out for squalls,” said the old pirate, who had not spoken 
for an hour; “ they are a scouting party of Mexicans.” 
“ And are three or four times our number,” said Thimble¬ 
rig. “ No matter,” replied the old man ; “ they are con¬ 
victs, jail birds, and cowardly ruffians, no doubt, who 
would tremble at a loud word as much as a mustang at 
the sight of a lasso. Let us spread ourselves, dismount, 
and trust to our arms.” 

We followed his orders, and stood beside our horses, 
which served to protect our persons, and we awaited the 
approach of the enemy. When they perceived this 
movement of ours, they checked their speed, appeared 
to consult together for a few minutes, then spread their 
line, and came within rifle shot of us. The leader called 
out to us in Spanish, but as I did not understand him, I 
asked the old man what it was, who said he called upon 
us to surrender. 

“ There will be a brush with those blackguards,” con¬ 
tinued the pirate. “ Now each of you single out your 
man for the first fire, and they are greater fools than I 
take them for if they give us a chance at a second. 
Colonel, as you are a good shot, just settle the business 
for that talking fellow with the red feather; he’s worth 
any three of the party.” 

“ Surrender, or we fire,” shouted the fellow with the 
red feather, in Spanish. 

“Fire, and be d-d,” returned the pirate, at the 

top of his voice, in plain English. 



VICTOjttr OVER TIIE MEXICANS. 


367 


And sure enough they took his advice, for the next 
minute we were saluted with a discharge of musketry^ 
the report of which was so loud that we were convinced 
they all had fired. Before the smoke had cleared away 
we had each selected our man, fired, and I never did see 
such a scattering among their ranks as followed. We 
beheld several mustangs running wild without their riders 
over the prairie, and the balance of the company were 
already retreating at a more rapid gait than they ap¬ 
proached. We hastily mounted, and commenced pur¬ 
suit, which we kept up until we beheld the independent 
flag flying from the battlements of the fortress of Alamo, 
our place of destination. The fugitives succeeded in 
evading our pursuit, and we rode up to the gates of the 
fortress, announced to the sentinel who we were, and the 
gates were thrown open; and we entered amid shouts of 
welcome bestowed upon us by the patriots 


CHAPTER XXXIY. 


Discription of the Alamo fortress and Bexar—Capture of the Alaraf 
by the Texan army—Account of Colonel Bowie—ITis stratagem 
for deceiving the Cumanches—News of the approach of Santa 
Anna—History of Texas—Account of Santa Anna- Elis ambition 
- Anecdote—Siege of a Convent. 

The fortress of Alamo is at the town of Bexar, on the 
San Antonio river, which flows through the town. Bexar 
is about one hundred and forty miles from the coast, and 
contains upward of twelve hundred citizens, all nativo 
Mexicans, with the exception of a few American families 
who have settled there. Besides these there is a garrison 
of soldiers, and trading pedlars of every description, who 
resort to it from the borders of the Rio Grande, as their 
nearest depot of American goods. A military outpost 
■was established at this spot by the Spanish government 
in 1718. In 1721 the town was settled by emigrants 
sent out from the Canary Islands by the King of Spain. 
It became a flourishing settlement, and so continued un¬ 
til the revolution in 1812, since which period the Cum- 
anclie and other Indians have greatly harassed the in¬ 
habitants, producing much individual suffering, and totally 
destroying, for a season at least, the prospects of the 
town. Its site is one of the most beautiful in the western 
world. The air is salubrious, the water delightful, esp*- 
(368) 


CAPTURE OF THE ALAMO. 568 

cially when mixed with a little of the ardent, and the 
health of the citizens is proverbial. The soil around it 
is highly fertile, and well calculated for cotton and grain. 

The gallant young Colonel Travis, who commands the 
Texian forces in the fortress of Alamo, received me like 
a man; and though he can barely muster one hundred 
and fifty efficient men, should Santa Anna make an at¬ 
tack upon us, with the whole host of ruffians that the 
Mexican prisons can disgorge, he will have snakes to eat 
before he gets over the wall, I tell you. But one spirit 
appeared to animate this little hand of patriots—and that 
is liberty, or death. To worship God according to the 
dictates of their own conscience, and govern themselves 
as freemen should be governed. 

All the world knows by this time, that the town of 
Bexar, or, as some call it, San Antonio, was captured 
from the Mexicans by General Burlison on the 10th day 
of December, 1835, after a severe struggle of five days 
and five nights, during which he sustained a loss of four 
men only, but the brave old Colonel Milam was among 
them. There were seventeen hundred men in the town, 
and the Texian forces consisted of but two hundred and 
sixteen. The Mexicans had walled up the streets lead¬ 
ing from the public square, intending to make a desper 
ate resistance; the Texians however made an entrance, 
and valiantly drove them from house to house, until 
General Cos retreated to the castle of Alamo, without 
the city, and there hoisted the white flag, and sent out 
the terms of capitulation, which were as follows : 

General Cos is to retire within six days, with his offi¬ 
cers, arms, and private property, on parole of honor. 

24 


870 


HOW WE TOOK POSSESSION. 


He is not to oppose tlie re-establishment of the constitu¬ 
tion of 1824. 

The infantry and the cavalry, the remnant of Morale's 
battalion, and the convicts, to return, taking with them 
ten rounds of cartridge for safety against the Indians. 

All public property, money, arms, and ammunition, to 
be delivered to General Burlison, of the Texian army, 
with some other stipulation in relation to the sick and 
wounded, private property, and prisoners of war. The 
Texians would not have acceeded to them, preferring to 
storm him in his stronghold, but at this critical juncture 
they hadn’t a single round of ammunition left, having 
fought from the 5th to the 9th of the month. General 
CJgartechea had arrived but the day before with three 
hundred troops, and the four hundred convicts mentioned 
above, making a reinforcement of seven hundred men ; 
but such rubbish was no great obstacle to the march of 
freedom. The Mexicans lost about three hundred men 
during the siege, and the Texians had only four killed 
and twenty wounded. The articles of capitulation being 
signed, we marched into the town, took possession of the 
fortress, hoisted the independent flag, and told the late 
proprietors to pack up their moveables and clear out in 
the snapping of a trigger, as we did not think our pockets 
quite safe with so many jail birds around us. And this 
is the way the Alamo came into our possession; but the 
way we shall maintain our possession of it will be a sub¬ 
ject for the future historian to record, or my name’s not 
Crockett. I wish I may be shot if I dont’t go ahead to 
the last. 

I found Colonel Bowie, of Louisiana, in the fortress, 


COLONEL BOWIE. 


871 


a man celebiated for having been in more desperate per¬ 
sonal conflicts than any other in the country, and whose 
name has been given to a knife of a peculiar construc¬ 
tion, which is now in general use in the south west. 1 
was introduced to him by Colonel Travis, and he gave 
me a friendly welcome, and appeared to be mightily 
pleased that I had arrived safe. While we were conver¬ 
sing, he had occasion to draw his famous knife to cut a 
strap, and I wish I may be shot if the bare sight of it 
wasn’t enough to give a man of a squeamish stomach the 
cholic, especially before breakfast. He saw I was admi¬ 
ring it, and, said he, “ Colonel, you might tickle a fel¬ 
lows ribs a long time with this little instrument before 
you’d make him laugh ; and many a time have I seen a 
man puke at the idea of the point touching the pit of his 
stomach.” 

My companions, the Bee hunter and the conjurer, 
joined us, and the colonel appeared to know them both 
very well. He had a high opinion of the Bee hunter, for 
turning to me, he said, “ Colonel, you could not have had 
a braver, better, or more pleasant fellow for a compan¬ 
ion than honest Ned here. With fifteen hundred such 
men I would undertake to march to the city of Mexico, 
and occupy the seat of Santa Anna myself before thre? 
months should elapse.” 

The colonel’s life has been marked by constant peril, 
and deeds of daring. A few years ago, he went on a 
hunting excursion into the prairies of Texas, wdth nine 
companions. They w T ere attacked by a roving party of 
Cumanches, about two hundred strong, and such was the 
science of the colonel in this sort of wild warfare, that 


872 


HIS STRATAGEM. 


after killing a considerable number of the enemy, lit 
fairly frightened the remainder from the field of action, 
and they fled in utter dismay. The fight took place 
among the high grass in the open prairie. He ordered 
his men to dismount from their horses and scatter; to 
take deliberate aim before they fired, but as soon as they 
had discharged their rifles to fall flat on the ground, and 
crawl away from the spot, and reload their pieces. By 
this scheme, they not only escaped the fire of the In¬ 
dians, but by suddenly discharging their guns from an¬ 
other quarter, they created the impression that their 
party was a numerous one ; and the Indians, finding 
that they were fighting against an invisible enemy, after 
losing about thirty of their men, took to flight, believing 
themselves lucky in having escaped with no greater loss. 
But one of the colonel’s party was slightly wounded, and 
that was owing to his remaining to reload his rifle with¬ 
out having first shifted his position. 

Santa Anna, it is said, roars like an angry lion at the 
disgraceful defeat that his brother-in-law, General Cos, 
lately met with at this place. It is rumored that he has 
recruited a large force, and commenced his march to San 
Louis de Potosi, and he is determined to carry on a war 
of extermination. He is liberal in applying his epithets 
to our countrymen in Texas, and denounces them as a set 
of perfidious wretches, whom the compassion of the gen¬ 
erous Mexicans has permitted to take refuge in their 
country ; and who, like the serpent in the fable, no 
sooner warmed themselves, than they stung their bene¬ 
factors. This is a good joke. By what title does Mex¬ 
ico lay claim to all the territory which belonged to Spain 


HISTORY OF TEXAS. 


873 


m North America ? Each province or state of New 
Spain contended separately or jointly, just as it hap¬ 
pened, for their independence, as we did, and were not 
united under a general government representing the 
whole of the Spanish possessions, which was only d:ne 
Afterward by mutual agreement or federation. Let it be 
remembered that the Spanish authorities were first ex¬ 
pelled from Texas by the American settlers, who, from 
the treachery of their Mexican associates, were unable 
to retain U ; but the second time they were more suc¬ 
cessful. They certainly had as good a right to the soil 
thus conquered by them, as the inhabitants of other pro¬ 
vinces who succeeded against Spain. The Mexicans 
talk of the ingratitude of the Americans; the truth is, 
that the ingratitude has been on the other side. What 
was the war of Texas, in 1813, when the revolutionary 
spark was almost extinguished in Mexico ? What was 
the expedition of Mina, and his three hundred American 
Spartans, who perished heroically in the very heart of 
Mexico, in the vain attempt to resuscitate and keep alive 
the spark of independence which has at this time kindled 
such an ungrateful blaze ? If a just estimate could be 
made of the lives and the treasures contributed by Ame¬ 
rican enterprise in that cause, it would appear incredi¬ 
ble. How did the Mexicans obtain their independence 
at last ? Was it by their own virtue and courage ? No, 
it was by the treachery of one of the king's generals, 
who established himself by successful treason, and they 
have been in constant commotion ever since, which proves 
they are unfit to govern themselves, much less a free and 


874 


SANTA ANNA. 


enlightened people at a distance of twelve hundred miles 
from them. 

The Mexican government, by its colonization lawa, 
invited and induced the Anglo-American population of 
Texas to colonize its wilderness, under the pledged faith 
of a written constitution, that they should continue to 
enjoy that constitutional liberty and republican govern¬ 
ment to which they had been habituated in the land of 
their birth, the United States of America. In this ex¬ 
pectation they have been cruelly disappointed, as the 
Mexican nation has acquiesced in the late changes made 
in the government by Santa Anna, who, having over¬ 
turned the constitution of his country, now offers the set¬ 
tlers the cruel alternative, either to abandon their homes 
acquired by so many privations, or submit to the most 
intolerable of all tyranny, the combined despotism of tho 
sword and the priesthood. 

But Santa Anna charges the Americans with ingrati¬ 
tude ! This is something like Satan reviling sin. I have 
gathered some particulars of the life of this moral per¬ 
sonage from a gentleman at present in the Alamo, and 
who is intimately acquainted with him, which I will copy 
into my book exactly as he wrote it. 

Santa Anna is about forty-two years of age, and was 
born in the city of Vera Cruz. His father was a Span¬ 
iard, of old Spain, of respectable standing, though poor; 
hi3 mother was a Mexican. He received a common ed 
ucation, and at the age of thirteen or fourteen was taken 
into the military family of the then Intendant of Yera 
Cruz, General Davila, who took a great fancy to him, 
and brought him up. He remained with General Davila 


HIS AMBITION. 


875 


until about the year 1820. While with Davila he was 
made a major, and when installed he took the honors 
very coolly, and on some of his friends congratulating 
him, he said, “ If you were to make me a god, I should 
desire to be something greater.” This trait, developed 
at so early a period of his life, indicated the existence of 
that vaulting ambition which has ever since characterized 
his life. 

After serving the Spanish royal cause until 1821, he 
left Vera Cruz, turned against his old master and bene¬ 
factor, and placed himself at the head of some irregular 
troops which he raised on the sea-coast near Vera Cruz, 
and which are called Jarochos in their language, and 
which were denominated by him his Cossacks, as they 
were all mounted and armed with spears. With this rude 
cavalry he besieged Vera Cruz, drove Davila into the 
castle of San Juan d’Ulloa, and after having been re • 
pulsed again entered at a subsequent period, and got en¬ 
tire possession of the city, expelling therefrom the old 
Spanish troops, and reducing the power of the mother 
country in Mexico to the walls of the castle. 

Subsequent to this, Davila is said to have obtained an 
interview with Santa Anna, and told him he was destined 
to act a prominent part in the history of his country. 
“And now,” says he, “ I will give you some advice: al¬ 
ways go with the strongest party.” He always acted 
up to this motto until he raised the grito , (or cry,) m 
other words, took up the cudgels for the friars and 
church. He then overturned the federal government, 
and established a central despotism, of which the priests 
and the military were the two privileged orders. His 


876 


ANECDOTE. 


life has been, from the first, of the most romantic kind 
constantly in revolutions, constantly victorious. 

IIis manners are extremely affable ; he is full of anec¬ 
dote and humor, and makes himself exceedingly fascinat¬ 
ing and agreeable to all who come into his company; he 
is about five feet ten, rather spare, has a moderately 
high forehead, with black hair, short black whiskers, 
without mustaches, and an eye large, black, and ex* 
pressive of a lurking devil in his look; he is a man of 
genteel and dignified deportment, but of a disposition 
perfectly heartless. He married a Spanish lady of pro¬ 
perty, a native of Alvarado, and through that marriage 
obtained the first part of his estate, called Manga de 
Clavo, six leagues from Vera Cruz. He has three fine 
children, yet quite young. 

The following striking anecdote of Santa Anna illus¬ 
trates his peculiar quickness and management: During 
the revolution of 1829, while he was shut up in Oaxaca, 
and surrounded by the government troops, and reduced 
to the utmost straits for the want of money and provi¬ 
sions ; having a very small force, there had been, in 
consequence of the siege and firing every day through 
the streets, no mass for several weeks. He had no 
money, and hit upon the following expedient to get it: 
he took possession of one of the convents, got hold of the 
wardrobe of the friars, dressed his officers and some of 
his soldiers in it, and early in the morning had the bells 
rung for the mass. The people, delighted at having 
again an opportunity of adoring the Supreme Being, 
flocked to the church where he was; and after the house 
was pretty well-filled, his friars showed their sklo-arms 


STORY OF THE CONVENT. 377 

•nd bayonets from beneath the cowls, and closed the 
doors upon the assembled multitude. 

At this unexpected denouement there was a tremen- 
dous shrieking, when one of his officers ascended the 
pulpit, and told the people that he wanted ten thousand 
dollars, and must have it. He finally succeeded in get¬ 
ting about thirty-six hundred dollars, when he dismissed 
th* congregation. 

4s a sample of Santa Anna’s pious whims we relate 
tb<* following ? 

(n the same campaign of Oaxaca, Santa Anna and his 
officers were there besieged by Rincon, who commanded 
the government troops. Santa Anna was in a convent 
surrounded by a small breastwork. Some of the officers 
one night, to amuse themselves, took the wooden saints 
out of the church and placed them as sentries, dressed 
in uniforms, on the breastwork. Rincon, alarmed on the 
morning at this apparent boldness, began to fire away at 
the wooden images, supposing them to be flesh and 
blood, and it was not until some of the officers who were 
not in the secret had implored Santa Anna to prevent 
this desecration that the firing ceased. 

Many similar facts are related of him. He is, in fact, 
all things to all men; and yet, after his treachery to 
Davila, he has the impudence to talk about ingratitude, 
lie never was out of Mexico. If I only live to tree him, 
and take him prisoner, I shall ask for no more glory in 
this life. 


CHAPTER XXXV. 


Thimblerig or. a Spree—The Mule trail.—News of Santa Aiut*- 
The .Ragged Hunter—Unsuccessful attack on Tampic.K -F*'# 
of the assailants—Approach of the Mexicans under Santa Anna- 
Siege of the Alamo commenced—Raising the Texan flag—Colonel 
Travis sends to Colonel Fanning for reinforcements—Reinforce¬ 
ments arrive—Thimblerig wounded—His revenge cm the Mexi¬ 
cans—Colonel Bowie—The Bee Hunter cannonading—Provisions 
brought in—General Sesma’s movements—Sharpshooting—De¬ 
claration of Independence— A sortie from the A^aino—End of 
Colonel Crockett’s MS. 

I write this on the nineteenth of Feb uury, 1836, at 
San Antomo. We are all in high spirits, though we are 
rather short of provisions, for men who have appetites that 
could digest anything but oppression; but no matter, 
we have a prospect of soon getting our bellies full of 
fighting, and that is victuals and drink to a true patriot 
any day. We had a little sort of convivial party last 
evening: just about a dozen of us set to work, most pa¬ 
triotically, co see whether we could not get rid of that 
curse of the land, whiskey, and we made considerable pro¬ 
gress ; but my poor friend, Thimblerig, got sewed up just 
about as tight as the eyelet-hole in a lady’s corset, and 
a little tighter too, I reckon; for when he went to bed 
he called for a bootjack, which was brought to him, and 

he bent down on his hands and knees, and very gravely 

( 878 ) 


THE MULE TRAIN. 


879 


pulled off his hat with it, for the darned critter was so 
thoi'oughly swiped that he didn’t know his head from his 
heels. But this wasn’t all the folly he committed; he 
pulled off his coat and laid it on the bed, and then hung 
himself over the back of a chair; and I wish I may be 
shot if he didn’t go to sleep in that position, thinking 
every thing had been done according to Gunter’s late 
scale. Seeing the poor fellow completely used up, I 
carried him to bed, though he did belong to the Tem- 
nerance society; and he knew nothing about what had 
occurred until I told him the next morning. The Bee 
hunter didn’t join us in this blow-out. Indeed, he will 
seldom drink more than just enough to prevent his being 
called a total abstinence man. But then he is the most 
jovial fellow for a water drinker I ever did see. 

This morning I saw a caravan of about fifty mules 
passing by Bexar, and bound for Santa Fe. They were 
loaded with different articles to such a degree that it was 
astonishing how they could travel at all, and they were 
nearly worn out by their labors. They w r ere without 
bridle or halter, and yet proceeded with perfect regular¬ 
ity in a single line; and the owners of the caravan rode 
their mustangs with their enormous spurs, weighing at 
least a pound a piece, with rowels an inch and a half in 
length, and lever bits of the harshest description, able to 
break the jaws of their animals under a very gentle 
pressure. The men were dressed in the costume of 
Mexicans. Cobnel Travis sent out a guard to see that 
they were not laden with munitions of war for the enemy. 
I went out with the party. The poor mules were bend¬ 
ing under a burden of more than three hundred pounds, 


THE MULE TRAIN. 


witaout including the panniers, which were bou 1 so 
tight as almost to stop the breath of the poor animal. 
Eacli of the sorrowful line came up, spontaneously, in 
turn to have his girth unbound and his load removed. 
They seemed scarcely able to keep upon their feet, an 1 
a3 they successively obtained relief, one after another 
heaved a long deep sigh, which it was painful to hear, 
because it proved that the poor brutes had been worked 
beyond their strength. What a world of misery man 
inflicts upon the rest of creation in his brief passage 
through life! 

Finding that the caravan contained nothing intended 
for the enemy, we assisted the owners to replace the 
heavy burdens on the backs of the patient but dejected 
mules, and allowed them to pursue their weary and lonely 
way. For full two hours we could see them slowly wind¬ 
ing along the narrow path, a faint line that ran like a 
thread through the extended prairie; and finally they 
were whittled down to the little end of nothing in the 
distance, and were blotted out from the horizon. 

The caravan had no sooner disappeared than one of 
the hunters, who had been absent several days, came in. 
He was one of those gentleman who don’t pride them¬ 
selves much upon their costume, and reminded me of a 
covey who came into a tavern in New York when I was 
last in that city. He was dressed in five jackets, all of 
which failed to conceal his raggedness, and as he bolted 
in, he exclaimed, 

“ Worse than I look, by-. But no matter, I’ve 

let myself for fourteen dollars a month, and find my own 
prog and lodging.” 


NEWS OF SANTA ANNA. 


881 


“ To do what?” demanded the barkeeper. 

“ To stand at the corner for a paper-mill sign—' cash 
for rags’—that’s all. I’m about to enter upon the sta¬ 
tionary business, you see.” He tossed off his grog, and 
lustled out to begin his day’s work. 

But to return to the hunter. He stated that he had 
met some Indians on the banks of the Rio Frio, who in¬ 
formed him that Santa Anna, with a large force, had 
already crossed the Neuces, and might be expected to 
arrive before San Antonio in a few days. We immedi¬ 
ately set about preparing to give him a warm reception, 
for we are all well aware, if our little band is overwhelmed 
by numbers, there is little mercy to be expected from 
the cowardly Mexicans—it is war to the knife. 

I jocosely asked the ragged hunter, who was a smart, 
active young fellow, of the steamboat and alligator breed, 
whether he was a rhinoceros or a hyena, as he was so 
eager for a fight with the invaders. “ Neither the one, 
nor t’other, Colonel,” says he, “but a whole menagerie 
in myself. I’m shaggy as a bear, wolfish about the head, 
active as a cougar, and can grin like a hyena, until the 
bark will curl off a gum log. There’s a sprinkling of all 
sorts in me, from the lion down to the skunk; and be¬ 
fore the war is over you’ll pronounce me an entire zoo¬ 
logical institute, or I miss a figure in my calculation. I 
promise to swallow Santa Anna without gagging, if you will 
only skewer back his ears, and grease Lis head a little.” 

He told me that he was one in the fatal expedition 
fitted out from New Orleans, in November last to join 
the contemplated attack upon Tampico by Mehia and 
Peraza. They were, in all, about one hundred and thirty 


MARCH ON TAMPICO. 


men, who embarked as emigrants to Texas; and tha 
terms agreed upon were, that it was optional whether 
the party took up arms in defence of Texas, or not, on 
landing. They were at full liberty to act as they pleased. 
Bu* the truth was, Tampico was their destination, and 
an attack on that city the covert design, which was not 
made known before land was in sight. The emigrants 
were landed, some fifty, who doubtless had a previous 
understanding, joined the standard of General Mehia, 
and the following day a formidable fort surrendered with 
out an attack. 

The whole party were now tendered arms and ammu¬ 
nition, which even those who had been decoyed accepted; 
and, the line being formed, they commenced the attack 
upon the city. The hunter continued: “ On the 15th 
of November our little army, consisting of one hundred 
and fifty men, marched into Tampico, garrisoned by two 
thousand Mexicans, who were drawn up in battle array 
in the public square of the city. We charged them at 
the point of the bayonet, and although they so greatly 
outnumbered us, in two minutes we completely routed 
them; and they fled, taking refuge on the house tops, 
from w r hich they poured a destructive fire upon our gal¬ 
lant little band. We fought them until daylight, -when wo 
found our number decreased to fifty or sixty broken down 
and disheartened men. Without ammunition, and de¬ 
serted by the officers, twenty-eight immediately surrend 
cred. But a few of us cut our way through, and fortu¬ 
nately escaped to the mouth of the river, where we got 
on board a vessel and sailed for Texas. 

u The twenty-eight prisoners wished to be considered 


APPROACH OF THE MEXICANS. 58& 

as prisoners of war; they made known the manner In 
which they had been deceived, but they were tried by a 
court-martial of Mexican soldiers, and condemned to bo 
shot on the 14th day of December, 1835, which sentenco 
was carried into execution.” 

After receiving this account from my new friend, the 
nld pirate and the Indian hunter came up, and they went 
off to liquor together, and I went to see a wild Mexican 
hog, which one of the hunters had brought in. These 
animals have become scarce, which circumstance is not 
to be deplored, for their flesh is of little value ; and there 
will still be hogs enough left in Mexico, from all that l 
can learn, even though these should be extirpated. 

February 22. The Mexicans, about sixteen hundred 
strong, with their President Santa Anna at their head, 
aided by Generals Almonte, Cos, Sesma, and Castrillon, 
are within two leagues of Bexar. General Cos, it seems, 
has already forgot his parole of honor, and is come back 
to retrieve the credit he lost in this place in December 
last. If he is captured a second time, I don’t think he 
can have the impudence to ask to go at large again with¬ 
out giving better bail than on the former occasion. 
S)me of the scouts came in, and bring reports that Santa 
Anna has been endeavoring to excite the Indians to hos¬ 
tilities against the Texians, but so far without effect. 
The Cumanches, in particular, entertain such hatred for 
the Mexicans, and at the same time hold them in such 
contempt, that they would rather turn their tomahawks 
against them, and drive them from the land, than lend a 
helping hand. We are up and doing, and as lively as 
Dutch cheese in the dog-days. The two hunters that 1 


884 


RAISING THE FLAG. 


have already introduced to the reader left the town this 
afternoon, for the purpose of reconnoitring. 

February 23. Early this morning the enemy came in 
sight, marching in regular order, and displaying their 
strength to the greatest advantage, in order to strike ua 
with terror. But that was no go ; they’ll find that they 
have to do with men who will never lay down their arms 
as long as they can stand on their legs. We held a 
short council of war, and, finding that we should he 
completely surrounded, and overwhelmed by numbers, 
if we remained in the town, we concluded to withdraw 
to the fortress of Alamo, and defend it to the last ex¬ 
tremity. We accordingly filed off, in good order, having 
some days before placed all the surplus provisions, arms, 
and ammunition in the fortress. We have had a large 
national flag made; it is composed of thirteen stripes, 
red and white, alternately, on a blue ground, with a 
large white star, of five points, in the centre, and be¬ 
tween the points the letters Texas. As soon as all our 
dttle band, about one hundred and fifty in number, had 
entered and secured the fortress in the best possible 
manner, we set about raising our flag on the battlements ; 
on which occasion there was no one more active than my 
young friend, the Bee hunter. He had been all along 
sprightly, cheerful, and spirited, but now, notwith¬ 
standing the control that he usually maintained over 
nimself, it was with difficulty that he kept his enthusiasm 
within bounds. As soon as we commenced raising the 
flag he burst forth, in a clear, full tone of voice, that 
made the blood tingle in the veins of all who he&rd 
him:— 


REINFORCEMENTS SENT FOR. 


UHft 

• Up with your banner, Freedom, 

Thy champions cling to thee ; 

They’ll follow where’er you lead ’em. 

To death, or victory;— 

Up with your banner, Freedom. 

Tyrants and slaves are rushing 
To tread thee in the dust; 

Their blood will soon be gushing, 

And stain our knives with rust;— 

But not thy banner Freedom. 

While stars and stripe.', are flying. 

Our blood we’ll freely shed; 

No groan will ’scape the dying, 

Seeing thee o’er his head ;— 

Up with your banuer, Freedom.” 

This song was followed by three cheers from all within 
the fortress, and the drums and trumpets commenced 
playing. The enemy marched into Bexar, and took 
possession of the town, a blood-red flag flying at their 
head, to indicate that we need not expect quarters if we 
should fall into their clutches. In the afternoon a mes¬ 
senger was sent from the enemy to Colonel Travis, de¬ 
manding an unconditional and absolute surrender of the 
garrison, threatening to put every man to the sword in 
ease of refusal. The only answer he received was a 
cannon shot, so the messenger left us with a flea in his 
ear, and the Mexicans commenced firing grenades at us, • 
tut without doing any mischief. At night Colonel 
Travis sent an express to Colonel Fanning, at Gcliad, 
about three or four days’ march from this place, to let 
him know that we are besieged. The old pirate volun* 
25 


thimblerig’s fighting. 


Bad 

teered to go on this expedition, and accordingly left the 
fort after nightfall. 

February 24. Very early this morning the enemy 
commenced a new battery on the banks of the river, 
about three hundred and fifty yards from the fort, and 
by afternoon they amused themselves by firing at us from 
that quarter. Our Indian scout came in this evening, 
and with him a reinforcement of thirty men from Gon¬ 
zales, who are just in the nick of time to reap a harvest 
of glory; but there is some prospect of sweating blood 
before we gather it in. An accident happened to my 
friend Thimblerig this afternoon. He was intent on hi& 
eternal game of thimbles, in a somewhat exposed posi¬ 
tion, while the enemy were bombarding us from the new 
redoubt. A three-ounce hall glanced from the parapet 
and struck him on the breast, inflicting a painful, but 
not dangerous wound. I extracted the ball, which was 
of lead, and recommended to him to drill a hole through 
it, and carry it for a watch seal. “No,” he replied, 
with energy, “ may I be shot six times if I do: that 
would be making a bauble for an idle boast. Ho, 
Colonel, lead is getting scarce, and I’ll lend it out at 
compound interest. Curse the thimbles he muttered, 
and went his way, and I saw no more of him that 
evening. 

February 25. The firing commenced early this morn¬ 
ing, but the Mexicans are poor engineers, for w T e haven’t 
lost a single man, and our outworks have sustained no 
injury. Our sharpshooters have brought down a consi¬ 
derable number of stragglers at a long shot. I got up 
before the peep of day, hearing an occasional discharge 


COLONEL BOWIE. 


581 


of a rifle just over the place where 1 was sleeping, and 
I was somewhat amazed to see Thimblerig mounted 
alone on the battlement, no one being on duty at the 
time but the sentries. “What are you doing there?” 
says I. “Paying my debts,” says he, “interest and 
all.” “And how do you make out?” says I. “I’ve 
nearly got through,” says he ; “ stop a moment, Colonel, 
and I’ll close the account.” He clapped his rifle to his 
shoulder, and blazed away, then jumped down from his 
perch, and said, “ That account’s settled; them chaps 
will let me play out my game in quiet next time.” 1 
looked over the wall, and saw four Mexicans lying dead 
on the plain. I asked him to explain what he meant 
by paying his debts, and he told me that he had run the 
grape shot into four rifle balls, and that he had taken 
an early stand to have a chance of picking off strag¬ 
glers. “ Now, Colonel, let’s go take our bitters,” saic* 
he ;—and so we did. The enemy have been busy during 
the night, and have thrown up two batteries on the op¬ 
posite side of the river. The battalion of Matamoras 
is posted there, and cavalry occupy the hills to the east 
and on the road to Gonzales. They are determined to 
surround us, and cut us off from reinforcement, or the 
possibility of escape by a sortie. Well, there’s one 
thing they cannot prevent; we’ll still go ahead, and sell 
tor li\es at a high price. 

February 26. Colonel Bowie has been taken sick 
from over-exertion and exposure. He did not leave his 
bed to-day until twelve o’clock. He is worth a dozen 
common men in a situation like ours. The Bee hunter 
keeps the whole garrison in good heart with his st, nga 


888 


DEFENCE OF THE ALAMO. 


and his jests, and his daring and determined spirit. He 
is about the quickest on the trigger, and the best rifle 
shot we have in the fort. I have already seen him brin g 
down eleven of the enemy, and at such a distance that 
we all thought it w^ould be a waste of ammunition to 
attempt it. His gun is first rate, quite equal to my 
Betsey, though she has not quite as many trinkets about 
her. This day a small party sallied out of the fort for 
wood and water, and had a slight skirmish with three 
times their number from the division under Genera*. 
Sesma. The Bee hunter headed them, and beat the 
enemy off, after killing three. On opening his Bible at 
night, of which he always reads a portion before going 
to rest, he found a musket ball in the middle of it. 
“ See here, Colonel,” said he, “ how they have treated 
the valued present of my dear little Kate of Nacog¬ 
doches.” “It has saved your life,” said I. “True,” 
replied he, more seriously than usual, “ and I am not 
the first sinner whose life has been saved by this bock.” 
He prepared for bed, and before retiring he prayed, and 
returned thanks for his providential escape; and I heard 
the name of Catherine mingled in his prayer. 

February 27. The cannonading began early this 
morning, and ten bombs were thrown into the fcrt, but 
fortunately exploded without doing any mischief. So 
far it has been a sort of tempest in a tea-pot, not unlike 
a pitched battle in the Hall of Congress, where the par¬ 
ties array their forces, make fearful demonstrations on 
both sides, then fire away with loud-sounding speeches, 
which contain about as much meaning as the report of a 
aowitzer charged with a blank cartridge. Provisions are 


RETURN OF SCOUTS. 


38 * 


becoming scarce, and the enemy are endeavoring to cut 
off our water. If they attempt to stop our grog in that 
manner, let them look out, for we shall become too 
wrathy for our shirts to hold us. We are not prepared 
to submit to an excise of that nature, and they ? ll find it 
out. This discovery has created considerable excitement 
in the fort. 

February 28. Last night our hunters brought in 
some corn, and had a brush with a scout from the enemy 
beyond gun-shot of the fort. They put the scout to 
flight, and got in without injury. They bring accounts 
that the settlers are flying in all quarters, in dismay, 
leaving their possessions to the mercy of the ruthless in¬ 
vader, who is literally engaged in a war of extermina¬ 
tion more brutal than the untutored savage of the desert 
could be guilty of. Slaughter is indiscriminate, sparing 
neither sex, age, nor condition. Buildings have been 
burnt down, farms laid waste, and Santa Anna appears 
determined to verify his threat, and convert the bloom 
ing paradise into a howling wilderness. For just one 
fair crack at that rascal, even at a hundred yards' dis¬ 
tance, I would bargain to break my Betsey, and never 
pull trigger again. My name’s not Crockett if I wouldn’t 
get glory enough to appease my stomach for the re¬ 
mainder of my life. The scouts report that a settler by 
the name of Johnson, flying with his wife and three lit¬ 
tle children, when they reached the Colorado, left his 
family on the shore, and waded into the river to see whe¬ 
ther it wmuld be safe to ford with his wagon. When 
about the middle of the river he was seized by an alliga¬ 
tor, and after a struggle, was dragged under the water, 


890 


GENERAL SESMA. 


and perished. The helpless woman and her babes were 
discovered, gazing in agony on the spot, by other fugi¬ 
tives, who happily passed that way, and relieved them. 
Those who fight the battles experience but a small part 
of the privation, suffering, and anguish that follow in the 
train of ruthless war. The cannonading continued at in¬ 
tervals throughout the day, and all hands were kept up 
to their work. The enemy, somewhat emboldened, 
draws nigher to the fort. So much the better. There 
was a move in General Sesma’s division toward eve¬ 
ning. 

February 29. Before daybreak, we saw General Ses- 
ma leave his camp with a large body of cavalry and in¬ 
fantry, and move off in the direction of Goliad. We think 
that he must have received news of Colonel Fanning’s 
coming to our relief. We are all in nigh spirits at the 
prospect of being able to give the rascals a fair shake on 
the plain. This business of being shut up makes a man. 
wolfish. I had a little sport this morning before break¬ 
fast. The enemy had planted a piece of ordnance with¬ 
in gun-shot of the fort during the night, and the first 
thing in the morning they commenced a brisk cannon¬ 
ade, point blank, against the spot where I was snoring. 
I turned out pretty smart and mounted the rampart. 
The gun was charged again, a fellow stepped forth to 
touch her off, but before he could apply the match, I let 
him have it, and he keeled over. A second stepped up, 
snatched the match from the hand of the dying man, but 
Thimblerig, who had followed me, handed me his rifle, 
and the next instant the Mexican was stretched on the 
earth beside the first. A third came up to the cannon, 


SHARP SHOOTING. 


891 


my companion handed me another gun, and I fixed him 
off in like manner. A fourth, then a fifth, seized the 
match, -who both met with the same fate, and then the 
whole party gave it up as a bad job, and hurried off to 
the camp, leaving the cannon ready charged where they 
had planted it. I came down, took my bitters, and 
went to breakfast. Thimblerig told me that the place 
from which I had been firing was one of the snuggest 
stands in the whole fort, for he never failed picking off 
two or three stragglers before breakfast, when perched up 
there. 

And I recollect, now, having seen him there, ever 
since he was wounded, the first thing in the morning, 
and the last at night y and at times, thoughtlessly playing 
at his eternal game. 

March 1. The enemy’s forces have been increasing 
in numbers daily, notwithstanding they have already lost 
about three hundred men in the several assaults they have 
made upon us. I neglected to mention in the proper 
place, that when the enemy came in sight we had but 
three bushels of corn in the garrison, but have since 
found eighty bushels in a deserted house. Colonel 
Bowie’s illness still continues, but he manages to crawl 
from Lis bed every day, that his comrades may see him. 
His presence alone is a tower of strength. The enemy 
becomes more daring as his numbers increase. 

March 2. This day the delegates meet in general 
convention at the town of Washington, to frame our De¬ 
claration of Independence. That the sacred instrument 
may never be trampled on by the children of those who 
have freely shed their blood to establish it, is the sincere 


892 DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE. 

wish of David Crockett. Universal independence is an al¬ 
mighty idea, far too extensive for some brains to com¬ 
prehend. It is a beautiful seed that germinates rapidly, 
and brings forth a large and vigorous tree, but like the 
deadly Upas, we sometimes find the smaller plants wither 
and die in its shades. Its blooming branches spread far 
and wide, offering a perch of safety to all alike, but even 
among its protecting branches we find the eagle, the kite, 
and the owl preying upon the helpless dove and sparrow. 
Beneath its shades myriads congregate in goodly fellow¬ 
ship ; but the lamb and the fawn find but frail security 
from the lion and the jackal, though the tree of indepen¬ 
dence waves over them. Some imagine independence to 
be a natural charter, to exercise without restraint, and 
to their fullest extent, all the energies, both physical and 
mental, with which they have been endowed; and for 
their individual aggrandizement alone, without regard to 
the rights of others, provided they extend to all the same 
privilege and freedom of action. Such independence is 
the worst of tyranny. 

March 3. We have given over all hopes of receiving 
assistance from Goliad or Refugio. Colonel Travis ha¬ 
rangued the garrison, and concluded by exhorting them, 
in case the enemy should carry the fort, to fight to the 
last gasp, and render their victory even more serious to 
them than to us. This was followed by three cheers. 

March 4. Shells have been falling into the fort like 
hail during the day, but witlfcmt effect. About dusk, in 
the evening, we observed a man running toward the fort, 
pursued by about half a dozen of the Mexican cavalry. 
The Bee hunter immediately knew him to be the old pi- 


SORTIE FROM ALAMO. 


393 


rate who had gone to Goliad, and, calling to the two 
hunters, he sallied out of the fort to the relief of the old 
man who was hard pressed. I followed close after. Be¬ 
fore w'e reached the spot the Mexicans were close on the 
heel of the old man, w r ho stopped suddenly, turned short 
upon his pursuers, discharged his rifle and one of the 
enemy fell from his horse. The chase was renewed, but 
finding that he would be overtaken and cut to pieces, he 
now turned again, and, to the amazement of the enemy, 
became the assailant in his turn. He clubbed his gun, 
and dashed among them like a wounded tiger, and they 
fled like sparrows. By this time we reached the spot, 
and, in the ardor of the moment, followed some distance 
before we saw that our retreat to the fort was cut off by 
another detachment of cavalry. Nothing was to be done 
but to fight our way through. We were all of the same 
mind. “ Go ahead !” cried I, and they shouted, 44 Go 
ahead, Colonel!” We dashed among them, and a bloody 
conflict ensued. They were about twenty in number, 
and they stood their ground. After the fight had con¬ 
tinued about five minutes, a detachment was seen issuing 
from the fort to our relief, and the Mexicans scampered 
off, leaving eight of their comrades dead upon the field. 
But we did not escape unscathed, for both the pirate and 
the Bee hunter were mortally wounded, and I received a 
sabre cut across the forehead. The old man died, with 
out speaking, as soon as we entered the fort. We bore 
my young friend to his bed, dressed his wounds, and I 
watched beside him. He lay, without complaint or 
manifesting pain, until about midnight, whenhespoRe, and 
I asked him if he wanted any thing 44 Nothing,” he re- 


894 END OF COLONEL CROCKETT’S MANUSCRIPT. 

plied, but drew a sigh that seemed to rend his heart, as 
he added, “ Poor Kate of Nacogdoches!” Ilis eyes 
were filled with tears, as he continued, “ Her words were 
prophetic, Coloneland then he sang in a low voice that 
resembled the sweet notes of his own devoted Kate, 

4 ‘ But toom cam’ the saddle, all bluidy to see, 

And hame cam’ the steed, but hame never cam’ he.” 

He spoke no more, and a few minutes after, died. Poor 
Kate, who will tell this to thee!” 

March 5. Pop, pop, pop ! Bom, bom, bom ! through¬ 
out the day. No time for memorandums now. Go 
ahead ! Liberty and independence forever ! 

[Mere ends Colonel Crockett's manuscript ]■ 


CHAPTER XXXVI. 


Assault on the Alamo directed by Santa Anna—Desperate fighting 
—Six Americans survive—Crockett one of the number—Death of 
Thimblerig—Castrillon takes the prisoners to Santa Anna, who 
directs the massacre of the wh Die —Death of Colonel Crockett— 
Of Colonel Bowie—Of Colonel Travis—Loss of the Mexicans at 
the Alamo—Battle of Goliad—Surrender of Colonel Fanning— 
Massacre of the American Prisoners—Ravages of the Mexicans on 
their march to San Jacinto—General Houston—Battle of San 
Jacinto—Total defeat of the Mexicans and capture of Santa Anna 
—Death of Colonel Fanning. 

The hand is cold that wrote the foregoing pages, and 
it devolves upon another to record the subsequent events. 
Before daybreak, on the 6th of March, the Alamo was 
assaulted by the whole force of the Mexican army, com¬ 
manded by Santa Anna in person. The battle was desper¬ 
ate until daylight, when only six men belonging to the 
Texian garrison were found alive. They were instantly 
surrounded, and ordered by General Castrillon to sur¬ 
render, which they did, under a promise of his protection, 
finding that resistance any longer would be madness. 
Colonel Crockett was of the number. He stood alone in' 
an angle of the fort, the barrel of his shattered rifle in 
his right hand, in his left his huge Bowie knife dripping 
blood. There was a frightful gash across his forehead, 
while around him there was a complete barrier of about 

(395) 


896 


CAPTURE OF COLONEL CROCKETT. 


twenty Mexicans, lying pell mell, dead, and dying. At 
his feet lay the dead body of that well known character, 
designated in the Colonel’s narrative by the assumed 
name of Thimblerig, his knife driven to the haft in the 
throat of a Mexican, and his left hand clenched in his 
hair. Poor fellow, I knew him well, at a time when he 
was possessed of many virtues, but of late years the weeds 
had choked up the flowers; however, Colonel Crockett 
had succeeded in awakening in his bosom a sense of 
better things, and the poor fellow was grateful to the 
last, and stood beside his friend throughout the desperate 
havoc. 

General Castrillon was brave and not cruel, and dis¬ 
posed to save the prisoners. He marched them up to 
that part of the fort where stood Santa Anna and 
his murderous crew. The steady fearless step and un¬ 
daunted tread of Colonel Crockett, on this occasion, to 
gether with the bold demeanor of the hardy veteran, 
had a powerful effect op all present. Nothing daunted 
he marched up boldly in fr?nt of Santa Anna, and looked 
him sternly in the face, while Castrillon addressed “ his 
excellency,”—“ Sir, here are six prisoners I have taken 
alive; how shall I dispose of them ?” Santa Anna looked 
at Castrillon fiercely, flew into a violent rage, and re¬ 
plied, u Have I not told you before how to dispose of 
them? Why do you bring them to me?” At the 
same time his brave officers plunged their swords into 
the bosoms of their defenceless prisoners. Colonel 
Crockett, seeing the act of treachery, instantly sprang 
like a tiger at the ruffian chief, but before he could reach 
hire a dozen swords were sheathed in his indomitable 


DEATH OF CROCKETT. 


897 


heart; and he fell and died without a groan, a frown on 
his brow, and a smile of scorn and defiance on his lips. 
Castrillon rushed from the scene, apparently horror- 
struck, sought his quarters, and did not leave them for 
several days, and hardly spoke to Santa Anna after. 

The conduct of Colonel Bowie was characteristic to 
the last. When the fort was carried he was sick in bed. 
He had also one of the murderous butcher knives which 
bears his name. Lying in bed, he discharged his pistols 
and gun, and with each discharge brought down an 
enemy. So intimidated w r ere the Mexicans by this act 
of desperate and cool bravery, that they dared not ap¬ 
proach him, but shot him from the door; and as tho 
cowards approached his bed, over the dead bodies of 
their companions, the dying Bowie, nerving himself for a 
last blow, plunged his knife into the heart of his nearest 
foe at the same instant that he expired. 

The gallant Colonel Travis fought as if determined to 
verify his prediction, that he would make a victory more 
serious than a defeat to the enemy. He fell from the 
rampart, mortally wounded, into the fort; and his musket 
fell forward among the foe, who were scaling the wall. 
After a few minutes he recovered sufficiently to sit up, 
when the Mexican officer who led that party attempted 
to cut his head off with a sabre. The dying hero, with a 
death grasp, drew his sword and plunged it into the 
body of his antagonist, and both together sank into the 
arms of death. General Cos, who had commanded this 
fortress while in the possession of the Mexicans, arid 
from whom it w r as captured, on entering the fort after 
the battle, ordered the servant of Colonel Travis to point 


898 LOSS OE THE MEXiCANS AT THE ALAMO. 

out the body of his master; he did so, when Cos dre'W 
his sword, waved it triumphantly over the corpse, and 
then mangled the face and limbs with the malignant 
feelings of a Cumanche savage. One woman, Mrs. 
Dickinson, and a negro of Colonel Travis, were the only 
persons whose lives were spared. The bodies of the slain 
were then thrown into a mass in the centre of the Alamo, 
and burned. The loss of the Mexicans in storming the 
place was not less than eight hundred killed and mor¬ 
tally wounded, making their losses since the first assault 
more than fifteen hundred. This immense slaughter, by 
so small a number, can only be accounted for by the fact 
of the Texians having five or six guns to each man in 
the forj. Immediately after the capture Santa Anna 
Gent Mrs. Dickinson and the servant to General Houston, 
accompanied by a Mexican with a flag, offering the 
Texians peace and general amnesty, if they would lay 
down their arms, and submit to his government. Gene¬ 
ral Houston’s reply was, “ True, sir, you have succeeded 
in killing some of our brave men, but the Texians are 
not yet conquered.” He sent him a copy of the Declara¬ 
tion of Independence recently agreed on at New Wash¬ 
ington. 

After the capture of San Antonio, Santa Anna had 
made a feint on Gonzales, where General Houston was 
with a very inferior force, which induced the latter to 
fall back on the Colorado, under the belief that the 
whole Mexican army was marching to attack him. A 
similar feint was also made by the Mexican General on 
Bastrop, a town on the Colorado, north-east of San An¬ 
tonio. Gonzales lies east of that place. Having, in 


BATTLE OP GOLIAD. 


899 


both instances, effected his object, Santa Anna concen¬ 
trated his forces, and inarched directly for La Bahia, or 
Goliad, which is situated about ninety miles south-east 
of San Antonio, on the Colorado. The fort at Goliad is 
of great strength, and was defended by Colonel Fanning 
with a small force of volunteers. About the middle of 
March, orders were received from General Houston 
directing the blowing up and evacuation of the fort, and 
that Colonel Fanning should concentrate with him on 
the Colorado. On tiie 18th of March, the Mexicans 
were discovered, in considerable force, in the neighbour¬ 
hood of Goliad, and through the day there was some 
skirmishing with the advance parties. On the 19th the 
fort was set on fire, and its wooden defences destroyed; 
but the wall was left entire, and Colonel Fanning took 
up his line of march. His force, at that time, was re¬ 
duced to two hundred and sixty, rank and file. With 
this force and several field pieces he set out to cross an 
open country, and endeavor to effect a junction with 
General Houston. On the evening of the first day of 
their march, the enemy made their appearance in the 
rear, about three miles distant. Colonel Fanning halted, 
and opened his artillery on them, instead of hastening 
forward to avail himself of the shelter of wood, some dis¬ 
tance ahead. The enemy manifesting a disposition to 
cut him off from the woods, he again put his forces in 
motion, but it was now too late. He not only lost the 
shelter of the timber, which would have ensured hi3 
safety against the enemy’s horse, but the assistance of 
his advanced guard, which was cut off from him by this 
manoeuvre of the enemy. The absence of the advanced 


400 


SURRENDER OF COLONEL FANNING# 


guard reduced his forces to two hundred and thirty-three, 
rank and file, to which the enemy opposed five hundred 
cavalry, and two hundred infantry. The action com¬ 
menced about five o’clock, and continued until nearly 
dark. The enemy was repulsed with great loss in every 
charge, and never was able to penetrate nearer to Fan¬ 
ning’s force than sixty-five or one hundred yards; and 
finally about dark, drew off his forces to a secure distance, 
leaving only a few to succor the wounded, who were not 
molested. Fanning’s loss was five killed and twelve 
wounded, two mortally. The enemy acknowledged the 
loss of one hundred and ninety-two killed, and a large 
number wounded. So soon as the Mexicans withdrew, 
Fanning commenced throwing up intrenchments, at which 
his men were employed during the whole night. 

About sunrise on the 20th, the enemy again advanced 
on Fanning, and fired their cannon four times over him; 
a large reinforcement of Mexicans was plainly to be 
seen, three miles distant. At this moment a white flag, 
attended by a small party, was seen advancing from the 
enemy, which was met by a similar one from Fanning, 
under Major Wallace. The enemy demanded the sur¬ 
render of Fanning and his forces, and promised in the 
most sacred manner, that they should retain all their 
private property—that they might return, by the first 
opportunity, as prisoners of war to the United States, or 
remain until they were regularly exchanged; and that 
they should be treated in the most humane manner while 
retained in confinement. With these specious promises 
he was induced to trust to the honor of the butchers of 
the Alamo, and accept of the terms of capitulation. 


MASSACRE OF THE PRISONERS. 4Cl 

As soon as the necessary arrangements could be made 
the prisoners were marched, under a strong guard, tc 
Goliad, and huddled together, officers and men, into a 
church within the fort at Goliad. The enemy having 
succeeded in capturing other small parties, the number 
of prisoners amounted to four hundred, and were all 
crowded together in the church, and compelled to sit or 
lie constantly. The only accommodation afforded was 
a few benches for the officers. They were retained in 
this situation for three days, and during this period re¬ 
ceived only a small ration of raw beef, not exceeding 
half a pound each. On the fourth day they were 
marched out into the open air, and limits prescribed them, 
over which they were not to pass. For four days longer 
they were kept in this situation, during which they were 
allowed only two rations similar to the first; and, but 
for the pecan nuts purchased from the Mexican soldiers, 
and a small quantity of jerked beef procured in the same 
manner, they must have suffered immensely. On the 
eighth day representations were made to the prisoners, 
that it would be necessary to remove them out of the 
fort, as they were about to drive in beeves to slaughter, 
in order to prepare rations for their removal to Mata¬ 
gorda, where they were to take shipping for New Or¬ 
leans. They were accordingly marched out, in parties 
of one hundred each, and, in single file, were led along a 
high brush fence; when, at the distance of two hundred 
yards, they were ordered to face about, and the cocking 
of the guns gave the first intimation of the fate that 
awaited them. At the first fire nearly all fell mortally 
wounded. A few escaped by falling at the flash, and 
26 


402 


RAVAGES OF THE MEXICANS. 


soon *8 the fire ceased, they leaped up, and sprung over 
the fence, and succeeded in reaching the woods, where 
they eluded their pursuers. The Mexicans proceelcd 
to despatch with their bayonets any who showed signs 
of life after the firing, and they then stripped and burnt 
the bodies. The authorities of Texas bestowed solemn 
obsequies upon their mutilated and blackened limbs, on 
the 4th of June, after their murderers had sank unto 
death on the plains of San Jacinto, under the appalling 
words, “ Remember La Bahia ! ” 

But this succession of barbarities, so far from intimi¬ 
dating, served to rouse the energies of the oppressed. 
The vain-glorious Spaniard, elated with success, without 
adverting to the fact that he had never been victorious, 
without having at least from five to ten of his mercenaries 
opposed to one of his foes, now ventured to cross the 
Colorado, believing that victory was perched upon his 
standard, and would not leave it until Texas should be 
subdued. 

His track was marked by death and desolation. Fire, 
famine, and the sword were in his train, and neither sex 
nor age was received as a plea for mercy. The hoary 
head of the grandsire, the flaxen curls of the babe, and 
the disheveled tresses of the affrighted mother, were 
alike stained with gore. Farm houses were consumed 
by fire, the crops destroyed in the ground; and the set¬ 
tlers fled in dismay, feeling that the worst of scourges 
had been let loose upon them. The plains were strewed 
with thousands of the unburied slaughtered; ard the air 
was fetid with corruption and decay. The merciless 
tyrant saw all this, and his heart expanded with joy, as 


BATTLE OF SAN JACINTO. 


403 


he rr/Ted on, like Attila, and beheld the terror and 
wretchedness of those he came to annihilate, rather than 
to scourge into subjection. But his was a temporary 
triumph. He crossed the Colorado full of hope of carry¬ 
ing his demoniac intentions into execution, but shame, 
confusion and defeat awaiting his coming. 

About the 18th of April the tyrant with one division 
of his troops, marched in the direction of Lynch’s ferry, 
on the San Jacinto, burning Harrisburg as he passed 
down. The Texan forces under General Houston, were 
ordered to be in readiness, and on the morning of the 
19th they took up their line of march in pursuit of him, 
and found him encamped on the banks of the San 
Jacinto. About nine o’clock on the morning of the 21st 
the Mexicans were reinforced by five hundred choice 
troops, under command of General Cos, increasing their 
effective force to upwards of fifteen hundred men, while 
the aggregate force of the Texians, for the field, num¬ 
bered seven hundred and eighty-three. General Hous¬ 
ton ordered the bridge on the only road communicating 
with the Brazos, distant from the encampment, to be 
destroyed, thus cutting off all possibility of escape. The 
Texian army were ordered to parade their respective 
commands, which they did with alacrity and spirit, and 
were anxious for the conflict; the disparity in numbers 
tnly seemed to increase their enthusiasm and confidence. 
Houston, having the enemy thus snugly hemmed in, <tnd 
his little army drawn up in order of battle, addressed 
them, in person, briefly, and concluded by saying, “ Fel 
low soldiers, there is the enemy before you; do you wish 
CO fight?’ 1 “We do!” was the universal response 


404 


CAPTURE OP SANTA ANNA. 


“ Well, then,” he continued, “ remember it is for liberty 
or death! Remember the Alamo! Remember Goliad! ” 
The soldiers shouted, “We shall remember!” “Then 
go ahead! ” From General Houston’s official account 
it appears that the war-cry was, “Remember the Alamo.” 
The attack was furious, and lasted about eighteen 
minutes from the time of close action until the Texians 
were in possession of the enemy’s camp. Our riflemen, 
not having the advantage of bayonets, used their pieces 
as clubs, breaking many of them at the breech. The 
rout commenced at half-past four o’clock, and continued 
until twilight. In the battle our loss was two killed and 
twenty-three wounded, six of whom mortally. The 
enemy’s loss was six hundred end thirty killed, and seven 
hundred and thirty were taken prisoners, among whom 
were Generals Santa Anna and Cos, who were cap tar el 
a day or two after the battle. About six hundred mus¬ 
kets and three hundred sabres were collected ; several 
hundred mules and horses were taken, and near twelve 
hundred dollars in specie. 

We learn, from other sources, that General Cos, when 
taken, was pale and greatly agitated ; but Almonte dis¬ 
played, as he had, during the fight, great coolness and 
courage. Santa Anna fled among the earliest who re¬ 
treated. His horse bogged down in the prairie, near the 
Rrassos timber ; he then made for the timber on foot. 
Ilis pursuers, in the eagerness of the chase, dashed into 
the same bog, and continued the pursuit on foot, follow¬ 
ing the trail of the fugitive, which was very plain on ac¬ 
count of the recent rains, until they reached the timber, 
where it was lost. The pursuers then spread themselvea 


DEATH OP COLONEL FANNING. 405 

and searched the woods for a long time in vain, when it 
occurred to Arnold Hunter that the chase might, like a 
hard pressed bear, have taken a tree. The tree-tops 
were then examined, when, lo! the game was discovered 
snugly ensconced in the forks of a large live oak. The 
captors did not know who the prisoner was until they 
reached the camp, when the Mexican soldiers exclaimed, 
“ El General, El General Santa Anna !” When con¬ 
ducted to General Houston, he offered to evacuate Texas, 
and acknowledge its independence, on condition that his 
life and liberty should be granted to him, and a safe es¬ 
cort to Mexico. 

The enemy passed La Bahia and Bexar, blowing up 
the Alamo ; spiking and throwing the cannon in the 
river, in his retreat. The Cumanche Indians commenced 
depredating in the rear of the Mexican army, as they 
advanced from Bexar upon the settlements. All their 
horses and mules, of which they had many, as well as 
much baggage, were taken by the Indians. At every 
step they met with trouble, and are hurrying with all 
possible dispatch toward the interior. 

The fate of poor Fanning, who was not killed in the 
indiscriminate massacre of his troops, has since been as¬ 
certained. He was condemned to be shot. When he 
found that was determined on, and was ordered out for 
execution, he handed his watch to an officer as compen¬ 
sation to have him buried, deliberately tied a handker¬ 
chief over his eyes, begged them not to shoot him in the 
head, bared his breast, and requested to be shot fnere. 
He was shot in the head, and never buried! 










































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